HOLDING HANDS AT THE VANISHING POINT

mom asks how are you? it's too early to say

so i ask the ice to answer for me

tempted by the blue pill, i stick to my devices;

organize my clothes by their touch(leather, cotton, 

mohair, crinoline, wool, acrylic) 

then the cat stretches her limbs, hungry from her nap.

sunshine hyperextends his wrists to touch, lovingly,

my elephant ear. i remember everything,

but none of it is worth recounting. sure,

we fought, you won, i spent years in mediation, 

teaching myself forgiveness. poetry spoke

verses i could not confront you with, lyric

my best weapon. i've long since put my weapons down, 

now, this gentleness, this loving present

at the foreground of our long and purpled

history. forgive me, the stories i've written

are peopled with our ugliest faces. the ones yet written

will be full of the loveliest strangers.