my one flesh, felt together

It's a very delicate portrait
if tentative - furtive -
of the person I could be, if I wanted to
(if I wanted to be anyone at all)

The process is silent and methodical
glitter falls in tandem with dust mites
I don't sneeze, but rather am awakened
am shaken and blinking, as if from birth

Slow capture. Easy snapshot.
Window filtering, natural light
My knees bend together, connected
in co-organism to my feet in socks

How practical. How thoughtful.
Imagine me, compacted into a mason-jar candle
If only I could be so miniature and matter-of-fact!
(you know, if I wanted to be. is the thing)

I have made myself very complicated,
to be thought of and elect,
and still the animals, they must process
two by two by two

In some sense, a charismatic figure
In some situations, a teenager scaled up
In all true keys, a mode of me
which is audible and visible

I feel as if a cartoon character,
and yet very firmly realized
as if I exist both from behind
and in three-quarter view

A collection of symbols
makes mutual language for you to speak
A supervisory of actions
which are at times unintelligible

A quiet, eyes-lidded autopsy
A biopsy, an unmyopic biopic
The candle is still a candle
Even when unlit, lacking match

This gentle reminder that I still do exist
even when I thought myself gone
In textures, scents, shapes and sounds
My life may still go on