Cuttin’ human ties and affections has always been a hard go for me.
Hard to pull the knot tight enough to stay in the first place, enough impression
my palm can grip the rope. At times I feel pulled through my mouth as I’ve spoke,
my teeth seeking outward peace from the pain on hinge.
I abruptly end & sit indian-style in contemplation.
That phrase may tell my age.
How long had I known you, how long have I not.
What piece of you my body has let me keep. I don’t sweep, it shakes the leaves,
can’t let them fall or I’ll know the season.
and I seated you beneath the roots and even below where the water source.
and I haven’t the breath to go that deep often.
especially when you’re still trying to take it away, even as a mem’ry.
Your voice is strong and deep. I ride what timber.
I cannot sleep.
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