The Body Poem Project: Melting Dogs Reconstituted

Melting Dogs Reconstituted 

Descending into a basement to rescue trapped critters, 

Tearing apart the walls to find moving bodies, 

Ascending with puppies and puppies and puppies. 

Sitting in the kitchen with Sam on a Tuesday morning,

Drinking coffee with the taste of coffee rot in my throat,

Standing with peppermint creamer in hand, pouring, pouring.

Running through my neighborhood beside the ocean, 

Getting flexible and becoming taller beside a tree, 

Sitting in the writing chair again and flattening, flattening.

Breathing weakly, though somewhat and someway clear,

Taking a deep breath and it catches, 

Feeling strong within and all of the vitamins, vitamins.

Saving my numb toes and dry feet from walking, 

Feeling pain in my big toe on my left foot, 

Cutting the nail too short — again and again and again.

Dangling calves, hanging in air, 

Thighs pressed against the kitchen stool,

Grounding my feet upon the laminate floor, cooling, cooling.

Numbing inside my stomach taller, leaner,

Reaching my arms overhead for the sky, mood lifting, 

Hearing your voice, calling and calling and calling.