Keeping Watch

I flatten myself carpetside,
legs parallel as the lines of a crosswalk,
arms a perpendicular “T”
to my torso, aching as they
stretch (or do they stretch
and therefore ache?) Open-bodied
stance releases all weight of this weary week.
White-flagging my way to the floor
a wide space spans my once-tight
palms, now held by an invisible
silken thread index to index.
Sprung free from the web of close-in
clamoring that’s cluttered my days,
revelation arrives via the limbs.
My body remembers a vast freedom,
the lull and lilt of quiet, room to roam.
Bones at rest, eyes shuttered, the inky view
messaging my brain. Sometimes I don’t
know what I don’t know, how tightly
I’m wound until I’m undone. I want to
live undone.

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