the problem with humans is that our heart is made of water and wind

i feel so heavy 
in this chair. 
crushing, legs 
prick and tingle in the 
wake of fleeing blood.
i feel so heavy 
in this body, this
body, oh body 
which carries me, 
floats me, cradles 
me. and i am
so heavy in it, 
swollen in the melt 
of mind’s vanishing glaciers. 

the land we seek for safety, 
it is slowly rising. all this ice, 
it has tired of us. 
in its transition of form, 
we find buoyancy. 
and what do we lose, 
in our changing? 
are we any less heavy 
as we go from solid to 
liquid to ethereal, diaphanous
scattering? 

i feel so heavy 
in this body, 
this body so heavy
in this chair. this chair
upon rising ground. a mind
encourages a brain, 
float! a heart, 
oh sweet swollen human heart, 
tumbling in its desires
of dichotomy: i want 
to belong and i want 
to be unique!
i want to safely 
cuddle and 
please god grant me 
the freedom of untethered flight! 

what good humor 
and kind luck, 
that we all together are 
possessors and givers 
of caging, and 
the creators of our own 
release. 

Published by Zak

an intertidal island in an ocean of impermanence.

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