Alexandra Gipson & Rae White

SOLILOQUY IN THE MIDDLE OF A HIGHWAY

What am I really but a fusion of collagen and calcium,
and the desire to exhale a deep breath
without my lungs flickering like dying lightbulbs?
To carve my name into this earth
that laughs at the idea of immortalization
for a body that is but ash scattered by the wind?
These feeble bones know no strength.
Each time my heel connects with the ground,
my fingers curl around a glass that lifts to my lips,
pieces of bone detach themselves from me
until my skeleton is full of holes like clothes 
forgotten in an old wardrobe, until 
my legs tremble with each step I take
and I am not enough for this world,
who strikes me down and demands I rise.
So I place each knee on the yellow lines
that race down the middle of the asphalt,
fling my arms out, splay my fingers like false 
feathers, and shout at the sky,
cursing life for its failure to capture 
the intricacies of the design in the finished product;
imagine that my blood carries the shards
of my bones back to their origins, 
snaps the pieces into place
so I can reclaim mobility
and test my bare feet against the pavement  --
so I can take this life I was given
and fly directly into the sun.