Myopic Hindsight
If the earth bucked, split,
Swallowed me and chewed
Home to jagged pieces,
You would remember waves
Sifting a castle back to sand.
Wouldn’t you?
If I screamed to make blood curdle,
“Please, God, make it go away.”
You would remember a spider’s shadow
Glooming grey upon the wall.
You would.
If my leg tore itself away,
Turned marionette
And performed an independent cancan
You would remember me
Wincing a little, but dancing.
You know you would.
And of all you’ve done to me
You remember
Making love.
I know better.
You bucked. I split.
I screamed. I tore,
Turned marionette,
And danced for you regardless.
You were Home once.
Now, you are walls that don’t talk,
And don’t remember.
But I do.
