the cognitive aspect seems plain
the reality is not
the damage embedded soul deep
I am caught each time
even in play I rarely protect
so again I find myself
sprawled upon the crunching gravel, the cold concrete slab, the linoleum tile of the lecture hall, splayed haphazard across some desk, or in a parking lot
I await awkwardly to be undarted
but this is not so unlike the now awkward gait of my slow moving soul
how can I leave myself so open
when I know I should close and protect
carrying a nerdy neck protector I rarely dawn
I do cast invisibly blown darts a drift
unsuspectingly they curl stunned and hesitant to the ground
these gestures of play awaken me
perhaps in these very moments I will find my unlearning
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