Anatomy of a Restless Mind

Natalie Miraziz

Acrylic and ink

Forgive me when I praise my wealth of irrational fears: the way I panic when I see blue lights parked ahead or behind me in the mirror, although I know I’m innocent for now; how I enter a room full of strangers & cannot speak as though they all hold knives under tables, this awareness of the flaw in me & tricks of patience I’ve learned to get past it; arachnophobia—no circumventing that, but at least each shiver leads me now to poetry.

I confess, I’m afraid of the neighborhood raccoon, waddling by each night around ten, hoping for a morsel I’ve cast out. I praise how we’ve come to an understanding: She walks the grid while I watch, & I won’t disturb her unless she gets too close.

Praise, too, the doe that stares me down, protecting her fawn, until she remembers that she was the young one once, & I was here: smoking, coughing, menacing nothing, & praising her for already appraising me.

Mazzina