the day when you
first learned
that the color
and the sound bursts
which were littered
all around you
were intended
as gifts—each of which
you deserved?
More importantly,
what priceless boon
did you gain
in forgetting
the simple glories
of that morning?
More than enough,
one shall assume,
to pay the ransom
demanded by the
madness of identity—
to forsake
your handy arms
and those
efficacious legs,
and, despite its utility,
to willingly come,
for a time, to be
stranded
in your body.
