Subject line: “I think my inner child has colleagues.”

No swipes, no candlelight, just wind and timing—romance reduced to favorable pollen drift.

In case of spontaneous ball lightning, initiate denial, preferably quiet—never viral.

Like in Ion, when Socrates says, we’re links in a chain, tugged by the divine.

So, what does it feel like to fall in love with something in your mind?

A lyrical reply to Elton John.

A poem on clouds in stormy San Francisco weather.