Start. Start.

Start.
Start
again.
Start once more –
try to shift your head.
You will continue this way, if
you survive the start. Your body makes sameness easy
when your feet follow each other, when your lungs know by themselves how to keep you breathing,
aware your body is an organism functioning with habitual precision, altered in its passage by circumstance and choice,
more aware than spiraled things who live in habitats of darkness, who only ever last as long as they do, who last less than
a day, who last a long time if you are a small unseeing creature unable to know yourself.
And when your bent-wheel feet and bellows lungs can't bear the knowing of yourself, and the great machine of your body blackens
with its own fuel, choice
is in fact the only part of your life that informs the world that you were once living
instead of just lasting your lifespan, which is easy
if you hide in dark places, if
you quiet your head.
To choose more,
again:
start,
start.