the expanse of me

Nila Narain

photo credit: Anisha Narain

from 0:00 to 0:49 my back is pressed against
the wall and i am heaving. yoga is more involved
than it looks. by 1:02 my chest begins ballooning

to its regular beat again. 20 seconds later and i
am staring at golden shadows dancing on my wall,
wondering who i would be if i wasn’t so sad. i could

build a neighborhood with all the people i've turned
into homes. 2:32 and i think was this taught to me? to
look for somewhere to put myself down? to look for

a space to hold me? me, all of me, i am-- 3:00-- so
expansive now. i span generations and oceans. i fill
the cosmos, i am a constellation of spawning stars.

a deep breath kills 10 seconds, 3:46. at night i still
wish you were wrapped around me. i stand up and
get dizzy. from 3:58 to 4:11 i question if i will ever

be able to occupy myself. by 4:33 i resign to the
fact that maybe i’ll never outgrow this discomfort.
my gut: a place i will always be learning to trust.

Nila Narain (he/they) is a mad crip queer poet. They are an alum of the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign where they studied computer science and creative writing. In their spare time, Nila enjoys crafting and napping with their cat. Find them on Instagram @nilarain00.