I was born with one eye open, how dolphins sleep.
even in rest, keeping watch
through the night water,
surveying their young.
Sometimes I think about the Russian peasants wading deep in my gene pool,
about their snow and their thaw.
what they might make of me or
what I have made from them.
I feel for the edges, pushing my mind back
beyond the peasants and their Russian peasant parents
to the pre-pangaeic skitterings of life, dark globules
that propelled themselves forth from the spires and deep caves of early earth.
I can give myself up to this, if I want.
drop in deep enough
behind the open eye,
past dolphin sleep.
But the sounds of the human body will always run deeper.
blood pumping and draining from my feet
to my belly and heart—the sound of my body working
to protect the softest parts of me.
Accompanies curated virtual show Pangaea and Panthalassa on Artsy.