I’m holding my life together with the thinnest of threads,
with dread, each fray spinning, unwinding,
I’m finding that I can float, untethered,
without the rope that means I must hold-on or be held.
I can float untethered, without fear,
in the thinnest of air, siphoning the last specks of oxygen
from my red cells, erupting; clutching nothing,
I have let it all go and it all let me go.
I am not running away and I am not giving up.
I am adrift in the ether, a placid breather,
combing through galaxy-wide spaces too big to hold me still,
with nothing to grab, or to grab me, nothingness has me.
So as the final thread snaps, eeking out the last gasp,
I go, quietly into the nothing everythingness.
I sense the bliss in the potential directions, multifarious
and let inevitability steer me on.
There is no trouble and there is no dawn.
I am infinite levitation.
I am Jack’s out-of-body experience.
I am detached from the machine.
I am.
