Wednesday, July 13, 2011

she found herself

she found herself

she found herself
at the bottom
of almost dying

and people didn't
recognize her at first
blonde hair now red

finding yourself
is like chiseling stone
not opening a door

this is what she told us
looking away self-consciously
as if we could catch almost dying

it is not looking
in a mirror seeing
this thing you in reverse

she added her voice hushed
leaning toward us squinting
as if we were mirrors

now she smiled
unlike anything before
that other grin gone

i am me
i always was
beneath that other

she handed us
a bittersweet message
on silver lips and tongue

because we never could
tell if it was oil or blood
in the water rising around us

and we had no idea
how to swim this tide
of her found and free

just treading water
against the weight
of jealousy in our throats

leaving our voices dulled
hiding our cries
of sorry sorry sorry

may i  hold your hand
kiss the curve of your thigh
smell you enter this room

i tried to ask as she walked
away leaving leaving
oil or blood footprints

invitations printed
by her soft soles touching
the silly spinning world

and there would be no party
or cake and icecream
or streamers and balloons

for falling in love
with this walking away
required only so much. . .

she found herself
at the turn back
toward living

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