there’s a quiet rage
looped
around my neck—
i’ve been a cowering
dog, snarling
at impermanence.
at night i
hide under lamplight from the three
knocks on my wall. i cover
my nose to
ward off phantom roses—i pierce
papers with unforgiving
black ink and hope
something stays…
i wanted something
deeper. i could not
let go of unearned
grief, for so
long wanting to sleep myself
into the trees, the bedrock—
i couldn’t imagine
living
unrestrained.
but i want to be softer now. i want
to banish
the trembling awe, the chilling
possibilities— i want
to let warmth in
and let truth go. i want to live
untied, foolhardy, unfettered by
the chase of understanding.
i’ll grapple hope
and tie a black
ribbon around it. i’ll cover
the mirrors, silence
the dog, turn over the shoe
under the bed. i’ll pray over
blue mornings, and talk
like the rain.
i can choose love.
i can turn off the light
and wait for
nameless things.
-Ceci Webb