pacing the tight light that spills from
my finger tips and falls
before my feet. Toe to heel to kneeling,
my body bent in posture’s
supplicant to approach itself;
I approach to ask - as I feel it always speaking,
But do not always understand
body language.
Lift the slack and rise from my failings.
Understand me.
I am asking deep into your speech.
Arms wrap around my own shape
just holding on the brink
of comprehension.
~
I measure my dreams against what doubt will allow.
I measure my dreams in suspension - tip them
on their [not] this end up;
feel the content shift - mix against the
loose wrap between all that is their's and
so much that is too close,
a swelling eternity just a bit too far off.
My eyes open - such small muscle's control
the portal between two worlds
keeping both unaware - maybe - just barely -
so thoroughly protecting ‘reality‘ -
though we’re all just guessing
… really.
~
He considered me
juxtaposed to delicate bands of practical, practiced motion.
stagnant water; its lovely shade of green
from a distance - don’t move - stay right in this small ring of heroic
theatrics - when is it over merely when is it over more than
?
~
words align unlatch bead strand the only jewelry I will wear my naked throat the anti-emperor my armor my quiet unbreakable definition is just several words for one and each sublime and suddenly, we are speaking a language but he and I change the meanings they are changing already and have from the beginning and whatever I may have meant shape shifts in the arms of his dreams he hears he and I am speechless.
~
Breathing underwater without
interim - not in a series of breathe's -- a singular rhythm and
It does not come from me but is all
I am a pattern a junction an unabridged account and now
I am sighing and I am never able to catch my breath while life itself
has caught me and when I was four I stood up in a boat and some
balance larger than my own body’s took me I was deep in the water
for my size and found no fear there and found I could breathe
it was easy - one only need to not try.
Next, my father’s face:
concerned and scolding and I tried to tell him and he said
I hit my head but I don’t remember that.
He seemed not so impressed by my newly discovered
Secret Ability. He seemed
not to believe,
but I knew
- and I still know -
though I’ve never tried to breathe underwater again. I like it too much;
just knowing I can.
