An excuse poem. Good place to start. Four days late again...
Why is it not good enough?
What you meant?
How you meant to be
- to them?
To buy the ranch
as we talked about
holding hands, when her arm went straight up to mine
on the day we got away, far away from the city and
the inkblack hallway of their childhoods.
We kicked leaves and dreamed
How we might have a horse
How it would be calmer
lighter, safer
How we would learn together to start again.
How I would love them all
as my own
as I did
as I meant to
As I meant to
I pray
there is some other invisible possible universe
drifting near enough
for my skin to sense it
so I can believe
that I meant to save them
that I had the option
In this place
I am there for them
have been ever since,
close and funny and familiar,
as they grow and I forget sometimes
that they are not mine
when
they cut paper animals
out of colored paper
with too long legs
I am there and I know how to make
them stand strong
and that makes me happy
and I forget everything else.
and need nothing but for that
to be true
for them to be safe
because of me.
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