There’s a pivotal moment, a split decision to
dash in front of dilating headlights
or stay put
the most beneficial choice obvious in retrospect but
in real-time is
as elusive as the first rib
as placeless as reciting pi backwards
It’s like I always say: you can’t make a mistake
no right or wrong
just paths that lead to death at varying rates
Sometimes taking a shortcut is the most compassionate road
that’s what I learned from being a 9-1-1 operator
Observe your own body for a minute. Be in it.
When was the last good night’s sleep you had?
have your organs been replaced with wet towels?
are there wine stains on your toothbrush?
do you sometimes go without eating to afford another tank of gas?
how many years have you been waiting for your soul mate to show up?
do you still believe they will?
Cue the sad piano and consider the lilies
no,
f*ck that,
consider thousands of sea turtle hatchlings
scooting down a vanilla beach slope, navigating by natural light of the horizon
the ones not eaten by swarms of predators propelling themselves past near-shore waters
disappearing for a decade
“the lost years,” we call it
then migrating back to the very same beach of their birth
My path is that of the Vena Cava:
always returning to the Heart winded, moonstruck, empty handed
gasping for more oxygen, demanding it
so I can know the bliss of giving freely
ad nauseam
Here, take it, it’s yours now
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Apprentice Editor: Yaisa Nio / Editor: Renée Picard
Photo: Pixoto / TJ Champagne
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