wanting motion

Jul 01, 2026

I. fists
my hands keep choking what has no compulsion to breathe

when I rest it is with my fists clenched like an infant

II. teeth
my teeth grind unconsciously, the dentist tutted, do you see how all your words fight to leave?

III. mortal
I still ask to pop the bubble wrap

IV. lungs
inhaling’s always been easy, I know the greed that’s been passed to me

throat capturing, thumbs pushing at my jugular like they could siphon what won’t spoil brown and metalline

V. mealtime
I choke the rat instead, but it’s dead, actually, it’s been dead, we should be more mindful of our meals

the rat may have been a mother or an uncle or a baby with its own tight fists, think about that.

VI. fists pt 2
knuckles flutter idiosyncratic; a moth’s wings flit graceful like song, but might it really be hesitation?

VII. scales
stop-motion, I am divorced from time. though I was born of the snake

like the ouroboros tattooed to my right thigh, on and on and on and—

VIII. immortal
life is barren when immortal, what will you do when you run out of bubble wrap?

IX. eye socket
and another soft animal sits behind an eye socket, its pulse dull but stable. I want to let it move

I’ve been wanting motion, I’ve been afraid to say it; wanting motion, to anywhere

X. feet
my boots are finally on, it took a quarter century, another quarter to break them in is my prophecy

wanting motion but my body’s been kinetic, snakes don’t leave footprints

XI. wtf is a metaphor
they don’t have hands either. what the fuck is a metaphor

XII. brown butter
I will not be a thing that simmers but never braves a boil

I am. butter on a stovetop

swirling into an ardent burning, a graceful reduction.

if you gave this a read, let me know your thoughts.

stay safe out there.

-sofi <3