Perhaps I shall always be
so befuddled by the vagaries
space, time, perfect
mathematical equations,
adoring their rigid, precise lines
even while loathing
the isolation,
imposed by my mind,
unable to grasp the slippery concepts,
without patient
and repeated, repeated, repeated
instruction,
and even then,
a little off center...
too unwieldy,
gelatinous bulk quivering
on toe point,
precarious indeed, before
the high wire is added,
I live messily,
despite my teeth gnashing for order,
I move with moods
like the weather,
hurricane subsiding into benevolent rain,
always becoming what I feel,
shapeshifter, I am
often weary
with the energy
necessary to rearrange,
unconsciously...
puzzle pieces sorted
by the wind,
ignoring sunburnt shoulders,
parchment rasping beneath cotton,
to bask in the sun's kiss,
eyes closed before the holy
morning movements,
birdsong, tree sway,
wind ruffled leaves..
I am a different sort of chaos,
conflicted, drifting lazily
until aroused,
longing, always yearning
for stability,
while ever seeking
the wild and uncontrollable,
remaining a mystery
unto myself,
irritating, itching to spread
like poison ivy
on unsuspecting skin.
