Did you ever cry reading a poem? I did!…the poem was about me!
“a woman sits across the table,
a decade quantums between us.
my dreams are prodigal, my boots barely broken in
for the journey.
she is, recently, terminal. her mortality
takes an extra seat at the table, takes two,
makes us both, suddenly, children.
the wrong man, the wrong hand,
imposter love gave her
a bed full of emptiness. kisses, simulations.
caress, simulacrum. the familiar face unnamed,
out of place in the only body she’s known,
missing the one who makes her belong,
makes her limbs her family.
she says, “i am not ready to be so vulnerable
i, “then, when?”
electronic, her limits surround us,
clouded uncertainty, where, when…
nucleic, inevitable, we march on
towards our only certainty,
the love she longs for painfully present
i: sit naked, wonder if i have found
a home in my fear, built a
house of my fear, fear so familiar now
it has lost its ferocity, undone itself,
robbed me, suddenly fearless.
i: sit naked, feel home, feel found.
seen, so, hidden. discover me uncovered,
my vulnerability unravels.
i: sit naked. the simulacra man, the electron, the
limit, the two seats at the table, the eyes, the
mirror, the leap, the faith,
our only certainty, the most uncertain.” By Anna Winham
I could not finish it! I read it 4 times, I cried 4 times!
The truth is painful!
But I’m happy to be alive today!