How can I be a balloon and not notice?
How is it possible to absorb another’s breath
And why, when the leaking starts,
does it scratch
There is a monster in my thoracic cage.
I slide through the window
To play his baby
Yes, I’ve had lessons, practise daily.
The melody is sweet
with the undercurrent of
It’s nice to play hopscotch in the rain
the impermanence is exacting
Sadly I inevitably deflate,
giving release, spilling out, falling away.
The monster escapes
stealing the bones from my fingers and feet.
So how am I to know where I end and another begins?
Do I really want the things I want
or am I grasping at straw
trying to plug my ever-leak?
That’s it, I’m off!
I have made a balloon out of my hot air,
you may catch a glimpse