my twinges
my stiffness
and my nervous shoulder
to the mat
it’s called corpse pose
and I understand
down here
as close to the ground
as I’ve ever been
fingers spread
jaw slack
I am boneless
rushing past
disembodied ears
mind swimming
with the stars
so liquid the cupcake
stomach is no longer
an obstacle to folding
transcending this place
floating away
from that corpse
every
Sunday
night
I
get
to
shed
a
little
death
leave
my
self in
Savasana
then wobble home
in my air bubble body
come inside slowly
tie up my hair
look forward
sit still
come down gently
from the euphoria of nothing
embrace my reborn self
with both feet
pray to my back
Rachael Sevitt is a Scottish-Israeli writer, poet, and editor. She is the recipient of the 2023 Andrea Moriah prize in Poetry, and an MA student in Creative Writing at Bar Ilan University. Rachael lives near Tel Aviv, Israel. Her work has been published or is forthcoming in SWWIM, Jewish Book Council, Passengers Journal, Squawk Back, and elsewhere. Find more of her work at rachaelsevitt.com and @rachael.sevitt on Instagram.
