It’s lonely without spirit.
As if the breath were sucked out of my body this morning,
now I’m simply “breathing”
Without air filling my lungs
Without current rushing through me.
It’s lonely without spirit,
because spirit is the swell,
the swell of life force meeting physicality
saying “you’re meant to be here”
and “you are here”
and “you’re okay.”
I watched myself be born yesterday,
VHS capturing a pink blinking stare,
and small murmurs of existence.
“Baby. Baby. Baby Girl.”
They say to me, endlessly.
“Look at this baby.”
Look at this baby girl, breathe.
Original expression. Dec. 202o.