Knowing.

I used to breathe
in counting one, lengthening
and filling starved lungs
out on three, freeing my flesh of demons
clinging to my cilia

I used to sleep
ceiling to floor, cradling unconscious worry
releasing the irreverence
etched across the walls of
my sodden, swollen eyelids

I used to draw
randomly flocking, fractions of souls
shine and longing within their eyes
liberating my fingers of fret
clutching empty transformation

I used to know
much less of the workings of my mind
of the valves of my mechanical heart
the rasping and weary
measurement of my broken stride


© 1.3.2011 heather brager




the river. original pencil drawing by heather brager. 2009.