across the room, i watch my body,
hear my voice saying words not mine.
fingernails carving
bloody half-moons in my palms.
activity becomes a complex calculus,
half-remembered, as a dream.
standing up requires
fifty-three separate movements,
forty-nine of which are too tiring
to even contemplate.
sobbing, on the other hand,
takes no planning.
21 Jan 1992 09:48
sine nomine