It’s hard to breathe —
to enkindle that lust for consumption —
and be where I’m expected to be,
when all I want is to do
is draw the petals in,
swing in circles about my coiled filaments,
and let the tension
and pain
dissolve into irrelevance…
There are larger ideas to entertain —
larger tensions than my immediate —
and to focus on those,
distracts from the now —
allows me to hold my breath
and be somewhere else.
And in doing so,
I inadvertently force myself to continue
to ‘be.’
This is how I survive the storm.
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