Today I woke up in my body and wasn't that body anymore. It's more like my dog— for the most part obedient, warming to me when I slip it goldfish or toast, but it sheds. Can't get past a simple sit, stay, turn over. House-trained, but not entirely. This doesn't mean it's time to say goodbye. I've realized the estrangement is temporary, and for my own good: My body's work to break the world into bricks and sticks has turned inward. As all the doors in the world grow heavy a big white bed is being put up in my heart. Copyright © 2017 Max Ritvo. Used with permission of the author. |
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