I wish to unfold myself.
Spread out the contents of my head to better see
what’s in there where
nineteen thousand and ninety days
give momentum to my stride
across the blasted heath
Yesterday a sunrise was beginning there I swear.
I recall a thought, I think …
I forget – what,
what thoughts I have formed,
what forms the worlds I created took,
from which form I framed this version of what I have been?
I remember much, but little of my being,
of time bleached days now
soft stains on the snaking matter of brain i strain
to know If I turned out ok in the end.
I’m unfolding myself now
I work with air.