oration.
2006-04-24 5:15 p.m.
i am trying to learn how to bury my roots, how to collapse my fingers into prayerful tenderness, but i cannot stay still, i have problems keeping quietmy mouth is unfolding (miles on the highway), and even though i do not trust her i will talk about marriage proposals, about sex and commitment, about women who were rushing (tides in oceans) because they had been taught that this was the way to live, about being one of them, in love
with men who knew no boundaries or reason, save romance without repurcussions, uninfluenced -
medicine, make return in the evening, remind my throat of bitterness, remind me of missteps and criticize me, set me back, set me back -
i know that i will never be more than what i have been, save spans, except for longer months that wear me thin up to collapse, that cut me low, that fall me flat and fell me sleepily to tentative control.
i have tried, so write it out, when the time has come to orate me, to life story crowds in mourning, tell them
she ate what she was given to eat and it hardly touched her, she struck her feet against the ground in many attempts, and she could find no shelter.
Tell them, she was history reversing itself, pulling up and changing course only to pull up again.
Tell them, i really thought i loved her before i knew her.
Tell them, i was her friend.
(this is protection in its true meaning, that i can sanctify myself every morning, that i can state my sins and still be so forthcoming, still be so ready willing, that i can guard myself from knowing what i'm saying.)