Poem no. 22 Baptism

I have found myself to be invisible.
These muscles, weakened as they are,
already drenched with the sensation of flowing water,
have left me hesitant. Bereft.
So I renounce the world.
Abjure the tiny, gracious interactions
that would tether me closer to the everyday.
It is an easy thing to slip into a flowing river.
I will not call out.

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