Human for a day

If I woke up human for a day,

I’d likely forget to brush my teeth,

distracted by the ability 

to create and break my own routines.

I’d trip over things that weren’t there,

sometimes fall, sometimes bruise,

I’d watch the skin turn olive from mauve,

and then to a sickly kind of yellow,

I’d stutter and mispronounce my words, 

and make the occasional Freudian slip,

I’d curse my forgetfulness,

my bad back, my laziness,

I’d make a cup of tea,

and let it go cold.

I’d breathe in other people’s air,

I’d dream of inconsequential things, 

the details of memories may get lost,

insecurities, acne, boundaries crossed.

This capacity to do things poorly,

must have something to do with being human

surely?