Morass

My thighs flatten

on the seemingly hard surface

I am collapsing bit by bit 

into the heap

in a last ditch

effort to find

my backbone

I try to levitate 

to rise

out of the days quicksand

For a fragile moment

my spastic thrashing

opens a sliver of space 

leaving a precious first impression

of my own weightlessness

Until I am sucked back down

a hundred unborn hands

griping my ankles

my painted toes pointing

the way 

I am what is left 

of the struggling stain 

my mortal remains

sitting alone in my bathrobe

Naked and trying to stay afloat.