Culled for a Poem


I don’t want to warn you
then throw myself in front of you
then apologize for (i)t                 Isn’t it enough
to give some truths     and keep those
that are too heavy   (for anyone) to carry

Maybe you    too         forgive yourself
for doing the best you can
with what you have     Especially if
what you had to begin with was
very     l(i)ttle

If you saw my closet      you’d know
the rows of high-heeled shoes
how I dust them          like trophies
for having once           run numb
I fear               losing

you      (or myself) in the madness
like I fear        illness       or losing
a limb      What if I revealed      that
I already had to lose       every limb
to get a body back       whole

Or that I knocked on closed doors
until I found belonging    in sky    and trees
and ocean        Would you      dear one
accept another truth       if what I offer is
l(i)ghtness      instead

Will (i)t     matter     Will (i)t be    enough