Balance is foreign to me.
I take ease in an uneven paved ground.
Cracks in the sidewalk.
Pot holes in the road.
That creates a peace for me.
If at all I could keep my balance in a room where the only light was from that from a street post, slightly framing the window, and outlining the place on the hardwood that I would stand, from my heel to my big toe,
My shadow would portray a figure of speech,
saying "Hello, I am who I am. A swaying, knee shaking, lip quivering me."
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