Tender
This
primary bit of body
to
actually be body. Flesh
is
secondary. I have tolerated
touch
for feeling’s
sake
forgetting
thought
is necessary.
I
can think of you fondly if after existed.
I
can touch the thought of your touch if
possibility were possible. Refuse
as
in
trash, refusal
as
in self, rest
inside the
symbiosis of this skin’s priority.
To
hate
one’s
self requires any
conviction.
I
feel sadly
lacks the appropriate signatures.
It’s
as if the dog you killed actually cared about its killing.
Like
the one last lick of bottle to say hello to yourself again.
The
boy playing a man explains his self by showing 8 x 10” photographs
of his childhood to the general public.
Inside
this story
well
past its beginning
went
something like this:
“Or
maybe he was too afraid
of
fear to actually hold himself
accountable
to anything. Including
suicide.”
To
care too much or not at all are both really just the same person
standing in the same spot looking in different directions of the same
circle.
My
circle.
Or
the other lesser known story of the man playing a boy shooting pool
with the rest of them knowing too much of himself to actually be his
self,
“I’ve
had enough,” he stretched
and
patted his belly.
When
I say, “uncle,” what I really mean
is
mercy.
Posted 10/22/13