it has more depth
than anything:
feeling as if i could
reach and yearn
through nothing.
i am only, only,
only, breathing--
the reasons are
taunting, heavy,
and come after
i feel.

if i could point
at myself and
say "pick up
thy bed and
walk," I would
try my best to
listen, but,

listen

i see my hand
with my eyes
pulling myself
inside
out,
being both the
vision and de
cision.

at this moment in that time, i would rather
feel than
appeal

the way it should be
is that for everything
that hurts there should be
a response that doesn't but

even jesus
took three
days.