You feel it at the back of your mind. It takes shape slow and exact. A form, a feeling. Almost imperceptible but, yet, unmistakably there. Hard to articulate exactly. A scent, that you know. That you have worn, or that has worn you. That you can’t quite place. It’s familiarity just out of reach. And when it’s felt, your mind goes to work, filling in the gaps with gold and sunshine. You feel and your mind says you are married to a women that loves you. It breezes across your unrelated thought uninvited in the middle of the day and your mind says you have beautiful children to love. It tingles against your forehead, cold, fleeting, unreal as the first drop of rain and you mind says healthy, employed, gold, sunshine. And the second hand moves and another hour begins, and you wait for the gap, and the fill, and wonder without if you will get to really know it. If one day you’ll see the edges, if one day you’ll see it’s face, it’s shadow, it’s heart, understand it’s intent.