by Clara Leo

Do You Feel That?

Do you feel that?
That’s how it feels to be corporeal and temporal,
To have your soul picked among the billions,
More than the billions,
And matched with this mass of blood and cords.

Do you feel the twitching liveness of your eyes?
They can’t stay stationary for a minute;
If you don’t believe me, try.

Feel your skin. Warm or cold, smooth or spotted,
It slides over your muscles,
Stretches and contracts and holds you.

Feel your legs. Feel the muscles,
How the carry, and
Your weight, how it presses,
The ground.

Hear the sound, whatever you hear;
It may be ringing, or silence, or
Rushing in your ear.

And think, the glorious twitching,
Neural wrestling and running,
Neural fighting and strong-arming the unsolved into its place.

Feel space.

We’re suspended.

We’re weighed down and we float.

Do you feel that?


I am the gun-shy gun dog that wishes to be taught,
And the lofty alley cat that wishes to be caught.

I am the perfect record-holder longing to be beat,
The fugitive who wants the cops to take him off the street.

I am the flailing child longing to be held too tight,
The scientist who hopes to prove his theory isn’t right.

I am the hunter hoping that his gun’s not sighted in,
The concert master’s secret wish to break his violin.

About the Author:

Clara Leo

Clara Leo has been writing poetry and music from an early age. She is currently pursuing degrees in music and economics at Wheaton College.