In which, I am anxious
Today I am in my writing room again,
Surrounded by green light,
Wondering: What if I move to a different place?
My right leg folded under my left thigh.
My right foot dangles in air.
I have a light headache.
My head in a fugue. Foggy. Fuzzy.
My hips wide. I stretch my arms up into the air.
Breath clear, catches at my waist.
My mind numb, but also thinking,
Of tasks to delegate to myself.
Heart, here? Where is my heart?
Trying to stay still and hidden?
Preparing to move to another place?
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