Every morning, the sun manages to find my one good vein, and delivers its dose of roaming gold. Radiant blood enriches the senses. Dharma oxygen feeds the foolish heart. Call me a dream addict, jonesing for the promise of another day. Joy’s ever-wandering junkie searching for that shimmer of clear calm beyond the bottle, bullet, or bad decision. Lift my bones into the light, their carbon hopes shine. This life, this love. When I’m ash, glue me into the book of good intentions.