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reconstructing what was once hastily abandoned with wariness picking through the rubble after all this time still poised to run you never know, old landmines can suddenly decide to explode in remembrance it is crude, i know, but roughly this is what i have done with my life what did you expect to see and hear? i tried to be meek but even my own silence screamed at me above the din i tried to listen for your recognition how was it said in that book that has become almost a bible? that if i were to lose you, i might as well lose you my way so here i am with scraped knees and skinned hands, having run across the minefield of false bravado i tremble with anticipation, i have cast my die, made a breathless leap into another nameless void would you at least applaud my being true? afterwards, then you can probably start to tell me why i am not the One and then you can kiss me on the forehead like you used to and hold my hand, and i will try to remember how you used to pull me together, and forgive me for hurting your hands while i break and fall apart.
i spun the bottle and broke it. apparently it has been pandora's other secret. we scrambled to catch Hope at least, and let all else go; but we impaled our hands over each other's, threaded through with the sharpest fragments, because we were trying too hard to be true, because we believed myths to be unchangeable. but look, Hope has hovered above us, and now it settles on my lips. our hands are stil fastened with glass but you can easily pluck it with a kiss... she stands there, holding a new box open, ready to shut. how do we play this trick?
yesterday i laughed because i remembered marking you in slow, deliberate steps i think there was a voice that sounded suspiciously like myself in half-dream that nailed each footstep with a mantra spoken only in the soul's tongue i casually separated you from everyone else who tried to test your naturally charming disposition, i silently gritted my teeth at the nonchalance with which you drew them towards you; but i made sure i was always an arm's length between you and every her i laughed because i never thought i would be so territorial i have always been the first to give way, i have never dared claim anyone openly or otherwise, but then you are different. you are supposed to be mine before i let you go.
i have always treated life like a classroom outgrown taking notes like any lesson can be pinned down and summarized, as if exams always had the same undisputable answer and doing bad in the multiple choices did not mean the possible devastation of a heart men in general always did bad at essays while we women dwelled too much on it, expounding, elaborating, neat, obedient handwriting in single space, back to back pages of thin white paper ink staining through like the tears we have shed for questions we failed to answer we are too good at history, never forgetting, though we claim to forgive and as for subjects that had to do with numbers, we always somehow, got stuck at One, and believed it to be ourselves.
i have been rethinking what used to be ordinary into something too complex that new names are called for like jealousy and trust like insecurity and Knowing like histories and forgiveness what was never questioned is now put out under scrutiny there cannot be loopholes through which either of us could wriggle out when we hear the first breaking of a heart
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Acknowledgements
