I decided that I wanted to feel it,
but not for a long period of time.
Maybe 10 minutes, 9 years, 3 lifetimes
Maybe I’d salt the wound, just to be sure.
Maybe I’ll salt the ground, just to be sure (the steps, too - you can always slip
in the winter)
you can always slip
But I’ve got places to be and
my heart is a lump that’s got fleshbones to sew
(holes in the seams and seems to be serious)
I decided that I wanted to know it,
but just 4 words and nothing more. Leave me at the paragraph
too daunting to read
I’ll roll up the paper - the fire needs kindling
I decided that I wanted to want it,
but I didn’t know how
to unravel it.