Do You Nonstop?

Do you nonstop through every day like you might never sleep?
And then you cave, curled up naked. Stretched between two pillows, a sandwich filling.
I nonstop like I can’t find the brakes.
I nonstop like that time I rode a bike down the hill, forgetting for a moment not how to ride, but how to stop.
I nonstopped into a tree, hugging it tightly, and slid off the bike.
I nonstopped once into a tree after studying for eight hours at the library.
Last night I libraried nonstop and there were men asleep in the stacks and there were also men playing chess and one of them looked at me, but I didn’t stop.
I grabbed music discs because there was no limit, even though I swore they had one, but that was a few library branches ago. Eventually my bag began to get heavy, and I needed room for books, so I moved on.
I walked around, and I listened to some words, some of them in an almost right order, some of them not ready to take that step.
There were ideas that seemed good on paper, messy in action, and the art of improvisation. Never a dull learning experience.
I walked through stacks without words, looking for numbers, and found missing books. I read spines and pulled too many titles from the shelves, checked them out, packed them up tight, and I walked out.
Outside was an intake of street smells, something like garbage, spit on the sidewalk, buildings crammed too close together without green space.
I kind of laughed and never stopped.