I find
Myself
In
A world
Apart
All glimpses
And echoes
I can’t
Quite
Clutch
With words
Before the
Bell
Rings
Me back
Into skin
And I breathe
Space between
There
And here
And feel
Waking
And forgetting
As one.

I slip
From
Now
To the nows
That pose
As laters
And I
Wonder
What’s to be.
I watch
With eager
Curiosity
Then
Anxious
Uncertainty
The loves
I’ve gathered
Along
The way
To make
My later
Matter.
And in the space
Between
Postures
Of not knowing
I find
The watcher.

She eases
To her
Feet,
Shifting
Gently,
Slightly,
Between
To settle
Them
Into one
For a moment
Before
Splitting
One away
To fly
To pull
Her center
To bend
Between
Stillness
And flight
To settle
Into one
For a moment
Before.
And I watch
From within
And without
Occupying
Edges
Just long enough
To blur.

I wander
Around my
Tiny corner
Rolled out
(Then up)
Each day,
Watching should-haves,
And want-tos,
And why-can’ts,
And but...but...buts,
Rise up
Around me,
Making corners,
And alleys,
And dead ends,
That I mistake
For me
Until remembering
“I”
Is just
Another
Edge
To wander.

I find
Myself
Surprising
Myself,
Delighting
In new paths
Between postures
And postulates,
The bits
Feeling
Arbitrarily
Divided,
Or
Loosely
Connected,
By stories,
Or both.
And I
Feel
My grip
Slipping,
And wonder
What
Becomes
Of that which
I let go.
And I giggle
On my next
Breath
In.

I felt
The smile
Tug
At my edges
Before
Reaching
Those
Of my mouth.
Having let go
Just briefly
Of the have-tos
And musts,
I saw
The great play
I’d forgotten
I was
Cast for
And smiled
For the me
That forgets.

I find ease
In my flow, and
I catch
My mind
Seeking,
Holding
A glimpse
Of what
Isn’t mine
For now
But has been
Before.
And she
Draws my eyes
To what has been,
What will be,
What could be,
If only,
Before I breathe
And notice
Resenting
My head
Doesn’t make it
Not hurt.
So I breathe in
What it is
To flow
And hurt
And out
What it is
To notice
Hurting
And flow.
And she waits
On my mat
For my ease
To return
So she can
Remind me
The other
She has
To offer.

I find
The posture
That follows
Next  
And watch
The versions
Of myself
Spin
Away
To later -
Cleaning,
And dancing,
And reading,
And cooking,
And laughing,
And I smile
As my body
Reminds me
Of other nexts
Before those
That follow.
And I breathe
And find
My posture
And watch
Once more.

I rose
Restored
And searched
For words
To weave
Through
Echoes
Remembered,
To represent
Their shape,
To make
Them here
And now
And later,
For sharing.
But the words
That came
Bent to
Things
Noticed
Instead
And here
And now
I share.

She slinks
Between feet
Curling one
Last
Bit
Of tail
Around
Wrist
Nuzzling
Nose
To shoulder
And scampering
Past
When
I reach
To engage,
To satisfy.
Tempting
And fleeing,
On
To the next.
And he
Is patient
And slow
And strong
When
It’s time,
Waiting
And ready
For my return.