Sunday, June 3, 2012


Every time I fly I leave
A little bit of soul

Tucked beneath the covers
Snagged upon the roses' thorns
Folded in my sock drawer

It clings to domesticity like Cat
Clings to my sweater when I
Put him in the basement for the night

I love my routine,
Saluting sun from on my mat at
Walking to the metro soaking up the
Grudging warmth of spring
Trekking to the salle and back in joy and
Injury and health
Contemplating candle flame
Counting breaths
Padding down the stairs for ice packs and
Up again to
Cradling my dreams

Each flight disrupts the
Flow distorts the
Shape and balance of my life
Distances me from
Momentary peace

Souls are tied to places, they aren't built to
Hurtle through the sky
Stationary objects, undisrupted, stay at rest and
So should I

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