We balance on an eyelash.
The swoops of pure joy
swinging free between us
without a warning.
Not even twenty four hours
to the cottonsilk clouds bobbing
between us in sheer
trust, the cold air tapering
between our teeth –
I felt a flicker of apprehension at the Distich,
“When fortune smiles, beware lest some ill strike;
End and beginning often are unlike.”
The end comes too soon. We sink
Your words coming from cracks
in the earth
My furies without a parallel
spinning me dizzy uncontrolled –
my tongue does not know what to say
my ears, what to hear
where to find comfort
where to rest the mantle
Anger management? Are you serious?
The shock blanches me
I’m washed cold ashore
Has the mirror I hold been
It’s easy to elide my cherished wildness
into barely conscious hysterics.
You flow with more grace than I.
I’m still a thorny berry bush,
yet to grow the
vast shadow one can lie under.
You too, slip me out a hurt
to learn to hold steady