There is this gap
When you drop out of sight.
The fulcrum has vanished
And you no longer pivot
In response to the world.
You respond to an inner necessity:
The imperative to survive.
That is your reason to continue.
Nothing else has meaning.
Everything else is trivial.
When your breath hinges on a pill,
When you know it's only a matter of hours
Before you run out of air,
You make it your business to focus continually
On the pivot
And your life as a secret, silent cygnet
Who can never plume itself
Plumb its depths
Or pirouette.
