In a dream I'm no longer in love. I breathe deeply this sense of freedom, <br />and I vow never again to seal myself in, but I am reminded it is myself I love <br />also and that too is a kind of sealed condition. I am committed to taking <br />care of my body and its home accommodations, its clothes and neat <br />appearance that I admire in the mirror, yet I would like to know what it <br />would be like freed of brushing my teeth, washing my neck and face and <br />between my toes. I'd like to know, as I neglect to move my bowels, and <br />stay away from food that could sustain my health, and do not change my <br />underwear, and let odors rise from my crotch and armpit. I stick out my <br />tongue at the image in the mirror showing me my ragged beard and sunken <br />eyes and hollow cheeks, free of my self-love at last, and I sink onto the <br />bathroom floor, feeling life begin to seep out of me, I who haven't eaten <br />since last month. I'm dying and I'm free.<br /><br />David Ignatow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-freedom-2/
