I fall all the time;
over my feet,
head over heels,
and I stumble from one chaos to the next,
naming the streets as I get to know them,
one part familiar,
one part nightmare,
sometimes falling into a ghost so that
for a time,
no one can see me,
except as a cool shadow
quickly blinked away.
My season of wounding has outlasted the blood in my body and
I stand bemused in a corner of an old song
and wait for the final fall.
No longer anxious,
no longer fearful,
no longer braced for the impact,
not having to endure the intermission
before the breath is dragged screaming back.
I want to fall into that moment
savoring the feel of motionless
for as long as it lasts…