When I almost got away with it.
When it beat me up, down the barrel
for weeks. Roughed me.
When i’m coming out of the woods.
When i’m in the clear.
But. You showed me indeed
the tough going sent who going.
1. When… . . … I don’t think you like me very much at all.
2. When you used to be funny. Now your air’s grievance.
3. When you forgot the sugar for the pie.
(The risk you run,
baking without tasting.)
When I found friendly eyes
Surprise, between the boulders and the skulls.
I would have passed by, despite the roses
I so prize. Though your portrait hangs
in my house. For years I passed, loving the color.
Not recognizing you.
But you recognized me. Love is real.
The thing i’m here
to learn—my body—is
enough is enough. I am
riches aplenty before the burning obscene.
When you thought you were the terror.
When I laugh,
because you have. Never. Seen. Me.
When it’s enough of you;
your time is lean.
jukebox:
[archival] for the curious, these diary entries (and jukebox time capsules) from the same time period in past years:
kate carsella 