Composure

Tetris blocks.
And I'm sliding through their creases as they come together.
I can't remember a time I've been more greasy, and I'm happy for all the times that have led up to this that have greased me up.
Those spring days, too.
Over the hill, down the street and through the path by the blooming oaks there is a stream. There is always a strong rush of water and it spirals wildly near a bottleneck at a bend. We would spend hours -- him and I -- throwing ripped up grass blades into the vortex, watching them submerge and reemerge on the other end of the suction. There is a beginning and an end to the water. Smoothly philisophical. The simplest metaphor. After you're sucked down, you'll pop back up. So the current flows.
Tetris blocks, those are a bit more difficult to navigate, though.
Requires a certain composure.