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Have a seat, but don’t just sit
Tell me
Everything
Even if you find you cannot speak
If your fingers will not bend as you expect
Just breathe.
Breathe in
Eyes opened
Have a seat, have an experience
A moment ago
You were born,
This moment
You are birthed
Breathe out,
Blink,
You are new.
Can I get you something?
Scotch and rocks?
An element?
Reach out your hand and let our skin get as close as our electrons will
allow.
We are water
We are electricity
We are always
Right now.
Mind if I join you?
I’ll have a drink too
Purple lemonade with black umbrellas.
Every clink of ice
Is us.
Metals so smooth
Adorn fingers and doorways
Yet touch something inside
That we all share.
My tears
Are the flecks of spittle
That you laugh across the table
And the waitress catches that moment
As she dries her hands
On the seat of her pants.
Match?
Carbon dioxide
Gives us life, death, compounds and controversy
Nothing new,
The arguments are all the same
And we’re still just dealing with elements.
Dirt and excrement under your pinky nail
Do not detract from my shared consciousness
With your eyes
The table
The door.
Open the door, but don’t just walk.
Connect to the ground,
It connects to you
Yet we only name it,
Classify it,
When we are classified by it.
Make eye contact with it.
It is a fleeting ground
And it’s different now
And since you’ve been breathing
I saw your fingers move
Without you,
But in the right direction.
Can I call you a cab?
The fare is the same
The moment you pick
Is the moment you are in.
Here we are.
Let’s go.
© 2004 by Mary Elizabeth Otte
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