and in my place I tremble

I know what they are, the snapping trembles. Not coherent here, because of the trembling. Rambles: third rail in NYC and Bos can't near it touch it static electricity like nearing that lightning ball and the hair rises taser and the shakes the real thing.

That's what they are: nearing the Actual. Even though so impossibly far away -- the length of a life, but the width of a cross -- getting even that close and it hurts so good. The tears actually of pain, but a pain of being so close and so far. The cramps actually of pain as well, of restraint. Running up to Heaven, all the way to Heaven not possible.

Not yet.