after Diana Khoi Nguyen

The past drapes about us like a cloak

heavy, miring us down to the ground

the body with its own mind, separate from the mind with which I think I think

the body keeping the score

I am just starting to win this game,

just starting to float free of this heavy clay, this woollen cloak, this muggy darkness

and I can almost remember what it was like to breath the clear air.