La Liberté

What is it that we were doing
these past several lives?
that we’ve somehow arrived
on the diving board of cosmic failure,
peering down into ourselves
from too great a height?

You were right –
I’m neither the lighthouse,
nor the ship being guided through
the churning sea to the bosom
of the shore. I was on the floor
of your sparsely furnished kitchen

when you implored me
to reveal the core of things
as they are, and so far,
I’ve made no progress.
Am I less because of this?
Am I a cracked lens?

Regardless of the outcome,
I’m sending you my love
in a bundle of nervous energy,
and the gentle fervor
of these possibilities
which belong equally to you and me

as the sky, the sky adorned
with wet rags.

-r. miller

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