Sensation

If I could lose the weight of my arms The warmth on my shoulders The feeling of the beach molded by my back. The whistling of the embankment’s whittling sands and sloshing gusts of wind that slide over my skin like sterling feathers. I thought I could take myself out of the action of listening if I could lose the sounds. If their resonance never reached me. I tried to lose the feeling of myself; The diligence of physical attentiveness. I tried to become something otherworldly and to be the world. To encompass a spirit of something beyond my bounds. To feel a fluid infinity without myself a part. I tried to surpass myself. I thought to cross into the natural world was not to observe, but to become. But it is not a crossing. Not a leaving of yourself, but a coming home. I, twisted limbs. Pose delicately in half sleep for the sea. I speculate, scrutinize, search for descriptions of the waves. The shades of each underbelly. The foam over each fold as the water rolls over itself ceaselessly. But the ease of its beauty becomes mutilated by my human mind. Overanalyzed. The words I need changing with the turn of every sky. But this noticing, this is always from the outside. How do I become the world without losing the distinction of myself? How do I pass inside nature’s soul without leaving the humanness of mine? I, a contorted body. Too tangled for order, yet too orderly. Too clean for the mess of dirt and slime and blood. Too pained and raw. Too used to death. Too logical, yet unreasonable. Unrecognizable and known. We are led by despair and love as if they are the same thing. Heartache in red and black. A numbness of terrific color; focused. This is how we feel; In opposites that become the same. I need not cancel my feeling to join the realm of another. I cannot, for it is the intimacy of my attachment that at once unlatches me.