It (whatever it is) will be on your own terms. You will dance. Everyone gets two slices of cake. The cake is gluten-free. The cake is a door & someone sexy is on both sides. The cake is you. Did you hear that big-bottomed bell? That was a throne, moaning for you to collect it. Did you feel a shuddering around your temples? That was your crown, which is really a murmuration of fears you’re ready to let go of. Bye bye, heavy heavy. Hello sudden star anise floating in my tea. Who gave me this tea, anyway? Transmission almost over: this tea (your life) will be over. Don’t ration, don’t gulp. Savor. There’s an entire planet between your tongue and the next worry. Live there.