The lightest touch of something mild and sweet
-so be it
enough to knock me off my feet
Footless where do I wander?
Mindless how do I wonder?
Soulless
No. That’s the one thing I know I have because it feels
Alive
Heart. That I have. It won’t stop pounding.
Stomach. Pretty clearly there. Unclear why it would hurt. At odds with the fact that those poets who write and sing about it tend to make it sound
nice? pleasant? enticing. What gives?
I know it’s really just chemicals. But
I also know it’s really the sun and the moon and the earth and the sky, electrons singing in wild rainbows,
the sound of birds wings, spider silk being spun, and acorns growing,
the songs feet sing when touching green grass,
and most of all the beads of air- drifting from my lips to yours, my lungs inside me dying for the significance of that touch, imagine! -the longing of the molecules having been inside me, drifting out into the space that exists between us, hoping for the chance to give you life. Like me they hang upon a moment and hope. I know one thing; this will either kill me or make me live.