I dig in, and
hold on &
the more
I do,

the more you
drag.  You

pull,
push,
draw,

toss! &
drop me,

yelling
from where I thought
you still were,

only realising
(mouth straining wide & eyes!)
that my voice
is rushing
out
after you,

leaving my
stomach
via
my lungs

as you (just) left
my chest cavity
via
my throat before,

only staying
nano-momentarily
stuck

(not even my throat
can close up
enough
to hold you there) &

you are gone.

Free.

Out there &

I am left here,
&

you do it on purpose
(killing snakes!) &

Now
I have no choice.

I cannot stay here
without you.

I must follow.
(Why do you do it?)

I am so afraid.

My heart doesn't
explain itself to me.

It beats.

If I want to live,
​I dance.

But I struggle
​with it.
My mind screams
​reasons! and
truth! and
law! and

​my heart
is quiet and
​keeps moving,

not even asking
​me to
dance.

(but how can I ignore that?)

​It is so much
stronger.  So much
louder.  So much
bigger than me.

I never thought
of it
growing,
pushing out,
beating in
the dark;

​finding ways
to be more
without me
​knowing it, or
​helping it, or
accepting it.

​It grew without
​me and then came
​flying round a mind-bend
aiming at my chest to
​blow out my entire life-
shack and move

​back in.

​Blew away everything
​I knew in
one beat.

Just one.

​One.

...

​What do you do when you're not lying?

​You dance.
​

​7.

​I dream (a used dream).
​
​Soft-silk eyelashes shiver
against each other... &

​in the corner of the night-wet
garden of our 'once-upon-a-time' house
​the whole town lies
inside-out and blinking
against the backs of my closed eyelids.
Hard as hail:
still-life.

I raise my arms over my head,
​not believing, but knowing
that I lift up next to the paw-paw tree
​past the outside room, seeing the gutters,
hovering
​over the back-door neighbours concrete
wall and looking in-
​to their children's
​playground, sprinkled with tonight's
​forgotten toys.

Higher, faster:
​all familiar (funny how we know
what it looks like from the top).
Higher, lower;
​smelling the early-morning misty warmths
​like swimming in a sunny-shady pool
​(cold-cold-warm-cold) &
​talking to my sister
​about flying from the back-garden.

(she has the same dream)


​8. ...

My heart moves.
Blood & water
separate & the rest
flows from my
eyes.

I blink rivers.

My moon-heart pulls
at the air-tides &

I breathe

Fire.  It burns in me & I pour
water on it.

How can tears put out fires?

I am made of simple things:
Water, Air, Fire, Earth
& feel the ground through my fingers
& my shins.

When the tide goes out,
I walk on the ashes that are left of me;
Lukewarm footprints
filling with salt-water;
flooded,
even at low-tide.

The meaning of it is beyond me, but
I am here now.

Again I understand
that I can only stay & fight
when I find my heart.