"What would you like to do?" asks the device.
For once I'm the happy
one and my life isn't going
backwards. My wings caught fire,
color became the lyre; the old
cliché of living before dying. I
miss grief but not you. I kiss
he but not you. I am
hook but I am not song.
I have so much longing
but I am walling through it.
Years yank by, bad
gauges for sagging skin.
Something is not anything until
it's in the skin. Stretch
marks and sin. Skeleton, I am
the happy one and for once,
my life goes forward: to fire,
to grief, but not to you. To hook
and wall but not through. Gauge
the short of it: no sin skins
the skeleton who is still walking.
I am but not you. Living I am
but not you.

I love you Kate, I love this, I love that you're thinking about aging a bit I am too and I'm glad that your writing is still so firmly in bodies, I never feel my own self as much as I do when I'm reading your work.
ReplyDeleteWAKE