Permission to Be Human


ago
1 min
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readings
9
Finalist
Jury
When I woke up gravity was gone. I floated to the kitchen,
blender uncapped my smoothie entered the air and i sucked it from the ceiling with a straw.
I floated to work, waving to my grandma. She crawls after her drifting dentures.

When I woke up sadness had left. The sky was very blue and static, like sea glass electrified and died. A sun burnt my freckles and I reach for a runaway sunscreen stick. A baby is born and I float by. My grandma is gone and I move on, toward work, past a baseball field.

What if when I wake there is gravity, there will be baseball, olympics, rock climbing, running, trampoline jumping. Tree climbing, easter egg dying, pancake flipping and nacho chip dipping, deep water plunging and home workout lunging, dolphins on a horizon add a sun risin’ and what do we have? This guy the sky, is falling, chicken little-ing, my altitude less belittling.

What If when I wake there is sadness, I will laugh at my bed head and cry at my neighbor’s kind post-it note posted on my front door door posts. I will write a song to a siren topping Taylor on billboardtop100, the rigid sky will soften and drip like a melting clock and wrap me with wisdom. Asleep on the sad sand, slap to the face and I am awake.

A pin drops and with that I am launched into the atmosphere, there I go. the earth shrinking below me, with only the songs of poor Pluto giving me permission to be human, accompanying me in the space between gravity and sadness.
9

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