Flow, gush, spout, spurt refer to certain of the movements characteristic of fluids . Flow is the general term: Water flows. A stream of blood flows. To gush is a way to flow. I have always wanted to look ‘flowy.’ Wearing clothes that are breezy that just drip over my skeletal frame. I want to sound like the wind flowing through the leaves of August Popple and Birch trees. Stacey found flow one October in Boston. It gave her the courage to tell Sergio to “Just Go,” as he tried to put his hand on her in the dark room, where she listened to a song called “Burn,” while smoking. For a few days, her usually jagged edged personality flowed like someone strong with a scissors got a hold of her and trimmed her outline perfectly so everything just flowed. Today the Lake Park lilacs flow in a breeze. No human fingers in sight reaching to pluck them. After a month quarantined in a one room studio, days flow into weeks, into months, into seasonal changes. All I can think about is how Anne Frank maintained the flow of her thoughts, her sanity, without making noise for two years trapped in an attic with multiple people? Someone sent me a picture of Lake Michigan today. The shore usually packed with runners, cruisers, photographers, now empty. A carpet of sand untouched, sitting like an audience just watching one wave flow into the next. The news is over-flow with stories and statistics of individual lives interrupted. There is an overflow of anxiety upon all of us, and I wish the world could find its flow again like Stacey did in that October night. Sitting in a dark room, the virus’ presence begins to enter, and with a puff of a cigarette, the earth could whisper, “Just go,’ with so much ease and confidence that the virus, like Sergio, said nothing, was gone, and never heard from again.