circles

30 June 2013

I tiptoe
in circles around myself,

an elephant on pointe.

I've heard it said that an elephant never forgets.

I trace
circles around myself in the dirt
and mark the territory I am not allowed to enter.

Thinking
in circular cyclical patterns like
bicycle wheels
spinning furiously, plowing through
dust.

The contortionist!--
I bend and extend
and fold myself, into the shape of my pupil

which contracts--a pinhole--
at the sight of the mirror.

I claw through our skin with
nails cut to the quick
digging little round holes through 
which we crawl out,
squirming,
into the light.