that is the question! she's asking me a question her mouth generating some sequence of sounds that comes across to my ears as some kind of noise I cannot hear the question because my head is full of the sound and fury of the empire building that signifies my angst of time that signifies my legacy that signifies the nothing of the bard she repeats the question my brain foggily parsing the sounds she wants to know whether I want cake or fruit but I have no idea! she always asks the hard questions how shall I know such things? me who wants nothing me who has long been devoid of the very capacity of desire is there a difference? sugar, with disparate contours a benefaction in colour texture, moisture, fragrance but no better one over the other for there is no better or worse, or good or bad to echo once more the bard I'll accept either, or both, or nothing -- she knows that already with the indifference of my kind and consume her offering with the gratitude consequent of the good will in her youthful heart but she always asks [8-VIII-2020]