It’s right there….there.
My hands could clutch it and I could run run run
not looking behind because,
as everyone knows,
that’s when you fall,
that’s when the monsters get you…
you are the monster.
So close I could smell it,
almost taste it.
There’s no one looking,
no camera blinking,
could this be the moment?
But once again I think too long,
and too crookedly,
thinking around corners that aren’t geometrically possible.
Over thinking would be a relief…
What I do is full immersion think.
I don’t just dream in the language,
I thirst and anguish and stomachache and breathe in and out
in the language of a fallen world,
which – so far – hasn’t even twitched yet,
but in my farseeing head has already burned,
the ashes smudging my face and collecting in my throat
the cough shaking my already trembling frame…
it hangs there before my eyes.
And all the planning and practice and preparation,
in the world,
won’t budge it…
Unless I lift my hand.
Until I lift my hand.