SAINTES, FRANCE: I keep waking up in france. it's this weird thing that keeps happening...

laying in the greenest grass
baby poppies surround me
the sun is setting
only two were pink
the rest, not a shy gradient of yellow

i took twenty deep breaths
tried to think of nothing.
not even a blank white room.
less than a room
less than a door to an empty white room
less than the color white
less than less
just nothing
nothing at all
not even the inside of my eyelids
and the red color that they make when i look towards a light
not even black
just nothing

i couldn't.
so much is on my mind
by breath twenty i squeezed my eyes as hard as i could
and let my lids free to wonder as they may
after such confusion. restriction.

all colors were brighter
all sensea were magnified
all reasons were present as to why i could not think of nothing
it's because i'm in a place with so much to grasp
so much to absorb
so much to remember

nothing is far from this place.

a day of petanque, frites at the riverside, classical music, nutella vs. jam and samuel clemens.