I’ve been doing the work
to get back to this moment
where the repairing is over
and the mending is finished
where it might seem to you
that broken records spin
different tunes—apologies
the only words I have for using
in my current vocabulary
if you think of a mountain
and look at its peak
you might forget
that concealed below the surface
is a mountain heading down
blood rushing in the form of various roots
disseminating deeper and deeper
canals as decisions, pathways
trails to an infinite abyss at the bottom of a well
so this has been my journey
down here in the dark
with only your light to guide me
that endless tunnel of never changing shape
no matter how many miles I walk
or how high I climb
the good memories are fond, the bad behind me
heartbeats and bifocals
toothy grins and curly cues
hugs that should last forever—
I don’t want to be approximate anymore
…when we get back to zero
recently
despite episodes of crumble
and falling debris I thought I shook
that still revisit and block my path
recently
I have found your light again
watched the shape get wider
watched myself be hopeful
for nothing in particular
just the good old days
where I found your presence
spiritual
where I found your sound
to be a cure
I used to try, try so hard
to make perfection
unaware
that that was you
my legs are tired
my throat is dry—
still the same, broken record
just trying less to spin spin spin
…
now I see the sky again