What to Remember when you find yourself disappearing.
Remember the smell,
or perhaps the smells,
the crushed eucalyptus,
the baking bread,
your mother’s skin.
The anchor of something you never had to prove or disprove.
It just was.
Remember all the things that ‘just were,’
that just occur,
the moon circles,
the oceans tide,
the consistence of each meal adorning your kitchen table,
the relentless nature of belonging, here.
Remember the way we moved together,
our disjointed stumbles,
smiles and touch,
the life that grew out of persistence.
always present, always.
Remember to breathe. Slowly.
Remember the temple of your body,
each movement an unfolding prayer,
the pain, the panting, the passion, a peach in your throat.
You are so wholly yours,
an affirmation over and over of something sacred,
every sensation, a holy canticle.
Blood in mouth, sweat in eye, caught breath,
can you feel how alive you are?
Remember, when you find yourself disappearing,
remember that you found yourself, disappearing, you found yourself,
you realised, and this is what makes all the difference.