Ceteris Paribus
The eye’s microscopic blind spot
Is the burnt end of a taut string
Leading straight to the brain.
Even every peripheral object
Pulls itself toward the skin
Imperceptibly, gravity
Rendering the precise identity
Of a lonesome self
Contingent on the intricate system
Of its scenery. Remove from a city
The abandoned, sunburnt spots
Of gum on sidewalks, all the leaves
Changing color then falling atop heads —
Who am I? In this hypothetical,
Consider the influence
Of all other variables but one
Negligible: the body,
As it sits in an otherwise empty theater
Sobbing, the sole loyal patron
Of evolving circumstance, its neurons
Incoherent, wanting to be everybody
At once: they’ve demonstrated kindness,
Kissed proverbial ass,
Neglected to tip waiters
Their due. A flake of snow
Exists as subdivision
Of avalanche and snowball
Simultaneously — our astounding plasticity!
Yet the eyes see only the documentary
Of their owner’s past,
Hoping an overlooked scene
Provides evidence that a frigid season
Of the coming and going of lovers,
Friends, parents, the friendly barista,
Might lead eventually, quietly, to a goldfinch
Landing in the backyard,
Picking at the summer’s grass,
Simply surviving, dim morning light
Peeking between the slats
Of windows’ cheap blinds
Revealing weightless specks
Of dust. A muscle fiber jerks, a twitch
Of the nervous system; I am a servant
To every painful and beautiful thing.
Not the stroking finger
Briefly resting over the pulse
Within a lover’s neck,
But the elasticity of an artery rebounding
From the rhythmic
Rush of blood. In this scene, I am lying
On a mattress, my body momentarily
A home.
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