Sunday, May 29, 2011

A poem, for you

If you are out there, if you are
listening for my whisper, then
cup your hand behind your ear
and let in the reverberations of
my words of love and forgiveness,
calm enclosure of our congress.

Please know I love you and that
I would have gone on loving you-
even when my eyes turned pitted
and opaque, even when my mouth
grew sour and pursed, even when
my hair sprouted gossamer and grey,
even when my feet walked sideways
and unsure, even when my heart
fractured into breadcrumbs... even
when my heart left a trail of itself
away from you, know I loved you
until I remembered that I also
love myself and my eyes and my
mouth and my hair and my feet
and especially my beating heart.

You witnessed my weeping eyes
bleed themselves raw, my gaping
mouth suckling for bones, my silken
tresses leaking luster, my aching feet
petitioning you for rest, my wildly
galloping heart straining out of my
chest and out of my body and into
your hands, your spindly delighting
fingers, and you limply let it slither
through your spindly, slipping grip
with the most obscene carelessness.

All I am is a wandering, blind cripple,
but I have breadcrumbs at the foot of
my pitiful body to guide me to each piece
of myself; and sure as the Prodigal, so
humbled and whole, the strength
of my stride and the sheen of my hair
and the set of my mouth and the spark
in my eyes and the stoutness of my heart
will emerge emblazoned with battle, the
passion of lifelust revived in me.