Numbers are frustratingly abstract.
They swim around in my head.
If non-neutonian fluids worked on transparency instead of rigidity, then doing math in my head is like hitting that fluid.
It all goes opaque.
I can see numbers,
But only when they're floating along, untouched.
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Long Lungs
I inhale.
You should feel your belly expand.
What a foolish way to teach deep breathing
to a child who takes things literally.
I look the part
but my lungs don't fill space
as they should.
My stomach sticks out
a stone of muscle and strain.
Hand on my bloated abdomen.
I can't figure out these long lungs.
I exhale.
I inhale.
I've found the key to long lungs.
Hand just below my sternum.
I open the maw of my diaphragm wide
to swallow that old stone whole.
My ribcage unfolding
until the chasm I've made
kisses my spine.
The embers in my dead blood flicker back to life
and the long frost recedes from my vision.
Take a deep breath.
I exhale.
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