Brutes shrink under cosmic judgement; force is insecurity.
If it comes, it comes.
Make room to drop what you’re doing.

I’ll clear two hours of my calendar for writing. 
That time is near.

Distracted from busyness, I pass my smiling eyes over its form stretched languidly across my day. 

Then I say everything I want to say in about 20 minutes, and lie on my couch gazing at the remaining hour and 40 with post-coital content.