That is what I needed, isn’t it? This home, quiet
as daylight, grass on the opposite aspect of those home windows
fading from gold to inexperienced like a girl taking
off her make-up. I’ve waited and waited to carry
my grief. Tied her up in rubbish luggage beneath garments
I intend to donate, slipped her within the aspect pockets
of suitcases and empty slots between cigarettes
in packs I carry all the time in multiples. I skilled her
to face behind doorways, to exit as laughter from my
throat. Waved her in any respect the protests the place I hoped
she would slip out of my fist like a pink banner
printed with the various names of justice. And sure,
I’ve greater than survived this fashion, not noticing
how she grew and grew, the best way my physique pinned
to the aisle seat in coach is all of a sudden a roar pointing
on the clouds. Pricey God, I need to be fabricated from extra
than this. Whereas he packed, I wiped the counters,
the spines of poets lining the partitions of the attic, workplace,
kitchen, the porcelain surfaces, of all traces of him; I did
what I couldn’t that evening the leaves have been darkish with hurricane
years in the past, hundreds of miles away from anybody else
I knew, with nothing to my identify, having left the second
nation of my childhood, the place T was devoured by
the dragon on his again, and P, and C, and C, and J, and H
are buried alongside my childhood, grinning like knives beneath the evergreen. Go, he’d stated, as a result of phrases are
the closest invention we now have to the solar—they’ll make
something develop. I believed then of all of the locations which have
made me go; how going is a form of life, too. Simply
yesterday, we marveled at mountains peeking their cheeks
between pristine New England gables as if asking
to be kissed, as if we now have not been their destroyers.
My ft damage from low-cost new footwear, and he held my hand
prefer it was a smooth, new planet whereas we climbed over the chain
guarding the shortcut by the sphere. Beloved, are you able to
inform me what’s the distinction between grief and gratitude;
inform me, how does the sky go on and on?
