Pairs
Like Noah, I start with pairs.
Body parts, not animals.
Lips without someone to kiss.
Arms for function, purely utilitarian.
Not wrapped around anyone.
Working my way down…
until I arrive at my feet.
They move me,
even as I go nowhere.
Not helping, so I move on.
Food.
Heat.
Convenience.
Blah, blah, blah.
Nope.
I dig deeper, by going to the surface.
My nice teeth and good hair.
I’m thin.
Lucky, I’ve been called.
Want to trade, I think?
Finally I arrive at the only thing that pierces through.
A glimmer of hope.
And at the same time,
Darkness to infinity.
I’m here.