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Click herethese words can be
ungainly;
the struggling feathery width
of a grounded albatross
but there,
at the very edge of where what is me
stops, but somehow doesn't
where everything
turns into
everything else
squinting
into the light just so
that line will, for a moment
become imaginary enough
to unsee
to allow for sustained falling -
and
i become light
as
feathers
make it so that gravity
merely tickles
rather than
captures
Many things to like about this poem but I must comment on the brilliance of the title here. I love when the title acts sort of as an indication of what is about to come, and influences the perception of the message of the poem, but then it follows you as you read the poem so the meaning of the title itself is influenced by the meaning of the poem and by the time you get to the end you just want to go back again and read the title because wait did that fucking marker MOVE while I was reading, which leads to wanting to read the poem again, and fuck you are trapped and the only way to get out is to leave a rambling nonsense in a comment box. Thank you very much.
The longing to escape our limitations, handled so deftly. Thanks.