Dissolve: Original Poem

Syd Wachs
Syd Wachs
May 9 · 1 min read
Photo by Syd Wachs

I want to dissolve.

I have never desired something so much as I do this morning.

But the rustling of tree branches adorned with leaves
seeps in from my window, pulling me out of bed,
and carries me out the door.

I find myself lying flat on my back on the sidewalk.

The sunlight presses down, covering my body like a weighted anxiety blanket.

The breeze whispers, gently slipping her fingers between my toes,
massaging all the tender aches and knots.

I have never felt the wind on the soles of my feet.

The mockingbird in the half-century oak
sings in a thousand years’ worth of languages,
words and symbols beyond my mind.

My skin thaws,
and I do not dissolve. I rise.

Syd Wachs

Syd Wachs

Story Coach, Ghostwriter, Novelist. Dark/Queer Fiction. I write about identity and creativity. They/them. Everywhere @videmusart.

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