Queasy - Poem by Adryan Barnathan
Escaping a particular shade of green-
no gulp of air can rescue you
from the rise of muscles
about to contract-
How long can you go?
the air rushes thru you
as gravity pulls away soft muscles.
This unbearable light headedness
brings you to the brink of convulsing.
'Let go' and
secret waves take over.
half buried in a pale pink cistern
looses out to your
Soul, Mind, Breath
like a birds brittle carcass
cracking on the
sunburnt desert floor-
Then the water turns
and you are reborn.
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