ManicDDaily

Stream

You want someone
to make amends, a specific
someone, though you know
they won’t, can’t–that it is like expecting flotsam
to swim butterfly
upstream. So you tell yourself
that maybe you should make
the grand gesture,
if not towards that particular someone then
someone else, certain that simple motions
of atonement, no matter where
directed, will slosh froth
back, will be,
as it were, self-
(a)mending.

Such strategies do
net ripple but an eddy in
your hippocampus still gyrates around
a blur of that more particular
reconciliation, an unfurling
of shine and flow in which your specific
someone would free, with a single stroke, the knot
that has clotted your spine
for nearly a lifetime.

But they won’t. Can’t. And you–
if you cannot, on your own, stretch straight, must learn
to crawl crooked, adjusting
for habitual kinks through a purposefully
listing keel.

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Posting this, really kind of a draft poem, for dVerse Poets Open Link Night hosted by the wonderful Grace.