But I’m Not There Yet

There should be a word for the way
that the mind and body natter at each other,
the mind with its briefcase and powerpoint slides

was not easy. And if we knew the word,

would we use it, would we conjugate or decline it,
or would we go on with our recalibrations
of thrust and thought, clutch and concept,

grasping and letting go, increasingly grateful

and the flesh with its whispers, its hunger,
its urgent joy. Which is to say that today

to be caught in the middle, the need to name it
less necessary with every passing day.

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