In a flash

I never noticed the art she kept. It was stashed behind cell phones and regal sneakers. Her quiet demeanor was always throwing off my rhythmic emotional needs. There was something about balancing I found so important, that I stopped looking. Stopped observing. Stopped appreciating.

We can all play ignorant. I, myself, the king of who cares. The blindest king alive.
She, the more knowing - 48 hours of stop and smell the coffee.

In a flash, I'm back to resolutions.

Without the rhythm.
Just the raw.