Today I had a fight with my shoulders
"Don't you want to go to Davenport today?"
Daisy, my right shoulder grunts "No."
Betsy, my left, retorts back,"Daisy gets all the attention."
She's pretending that she's perfect, but from the mirror I can tell that they are both in the wrong position, dysfunctional in their own ways
"Come on, just a little cat stretch?"
silence...
Obviously repetitive physical therapy exercises have facilitated a vibrant imagination
I think they are both pissed from being overworked in the water yesterday
even if the rest of me is delirious from being dunked in cold water
memories of slipping down pink sunset waves dancing in my mind,
building up a new resolve
"Oh yes you will stretch...
And don't think you're not going to Davenport either."
continues the soliloquy as I push unyielding muscles to foam roller.
I'm talking to my muscles, oh dear...
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