I am trying not to
end up a puddle on the floor for people to slip on and exclaim
‘someone clean up this mess!’.
I am trying not to arrive
to take the birds and the bird nest out of my hair and brush myself to the lady that comes to the world
whatever time of day
I am trying to do fancy
to take off the boots I have worn up the mountain a thousand times and
cross. my. legs.
and say ‘oh yes one must’
and wear the kind of earrings that do not sway
do not flirt with the air
but just sit
With gritted teeth I am trying to scrub myself to something picture perfect for somebodies and who’s-a-what’s-its and thems and theys and he’s and she’s.
I am trying
When the earth starts to make demands
It means you havn’t been listening.
I’m disappearing into an envelope
so that I may post myself to a place where
no one knows me.
At the moment I am found by your hands
Brush aside any dirt
press me to you if any rain has dampened me on my journey and
forgive any creases;
though I am damaged
I come to you
I didn’t have to go far.
I was always here.
I will never attempt to paint this memory
in any other colors than what
you have given me tonight.
Her refusal to say his name
Hibernation is not an option
I am forced to taste this bitterness.