Where was I,
i asked myself the other night,
who i was is no problem to remember.

i was pregnant. small/tall shadow,
caught colour vibrant otherness, the
stone beneath my feet set my steps in
loco motion.

i was a young boy. i saw the ground as
i used to see it on the 4th of July—Earth's
fur waxed and reflected the sky's percussion.

i, for an instant, was something alive.