Saturday 24 November 2012

the root of being


For the sake of weight I move and I address force with reason
I can lift           I can carry      move steel as one      be synonymous
this is the language my body speaks, an ancient tongue of survival, instinct       
I make use; I am taut and poised                                    an arch of light shooting
its way through the limbs of trees carving a trail between      dust motes and dandelions
the expulsion              the exposure                                      the sun                        light is here you can see it by its absence; this energy is gravity’s sister, a familiar face in a crowded room. Steel and dust, both catch the light and dissect space leaving the body as an outline
a compact collection of molecules vying for attention  I am under steel I am under dust and I can breathe, I exhale                                     this is root, rooted
to the being and this is how I run. 

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