Changes will continue, but I’ll never give in to
the woman that you’ve assumed me to be.
Thought that I had seen you,
Could feel me beneath you,
Beneath a distant longing
There’ll be no more waiting,
No sorrowful blaming.
I’m sitting right where I’ve wanted to be.
I am and I am not
these petals pressed into
these pages unnumbered.
I am and I am not.
But then I remember.
And when I remember,
It seems that I become more of what I remember.
Which is not necessarily insanely related
or jaded or tainted by bleak memory.
In fact I’m enjoying
the lifting of morning,
These petals intended for giving release.