Performance Art
Adam Clay
Like illumination, the light flatters our bodies
past the point of forgetting.
Remember how children careened
off their bikes into the void
of the avenue,
their skin holding back their bones,
despite the force of brick
upon the fragile human form?
The moment one goes from feeling
immortal to not feeling optimism
must be blurry,
I think, turning the nightstand lamp
off well before nine, imagining
the sleeping life blurring into the gestures
of the body, the way shaping the world
can shape our place within:
a lilac blooming before spring
and finding its way before its time.
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past the point of forgetting.
Remember how children careened
off their bikes into the void
of the avenue,
their skin holding back their bones,
despite the force of brick
upon the fragile human form?
The moment one goes from feeling
immortal to not feeling optimism
must be blurry,
I think, turning the nightstand lamp
off well before nine, imagining
the sleeping life blurring into the gestures
of the body, the way shaping the world
can shape our place within:
a lilac blooming before spring
and finding its way before its time.