I’m in a mood, I say.

But this underlying chaos rises

too close every time I speak.

I’m just tired, I think.

Clouds of puffy smoke dance

inside of me, leaning against the Exit.

I spot my shadow. She is impatient.

She is a warrior, ready for this stagnancy

to pass. Slow and steady, I tell her.

The wind slides my hair from my shoulders. She is still and eager.

The smoke feels heavier. I look to her for guidance. She points at me.

The fire, she reminds me, was burnt out; so now you can breathe.

I place a few fingers on my throat. She leaves.

I consider counting. I consider cussing. I do that instead.

I forget the smoke. I remember the fire. Breathe, she whispers, wherever she is now.

When there is fire, there is also air. Darkness holds hands with the light. All of these things coexist, so I am told.

I felt like running, but now I am at peace with the sight of this water rolling along.

Thank you, I say.

I jump in the water. Its waves carry me far.

I am my shadow, I yell as the water flings me on the grass.

Life goes on as I spin in circles.

Life goes on as I learn to sing.

I become my shadow. She is me.

Life goes on.

Published by Jaz


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