(v., never passive) To turn inside out. To lose six entire rainy days smiling at the neighbors, picking wet pennies off the ground. To meditate before you read the news. To not read the news. To write a poem about their shoulders, then fall asleep, fingers inside yourself. To read the news. To pray to your neighbors. To learn you aren’t a brain in a jar. To know we’re just bodies fashioning crowns for other bodies, but all crowns are made by hands. To know hands belong to water and sugar, all hands wish to return, and you’ve had good practice with this melt. To sledgehammer your walls. To unhinge your front door. To offer your body to the falling sky.