3.7.2016 — “The Body Keeps the Score” Ch. 10

I am a child; I know not how to flow
between the flickering of dark and flame
close enough to cook without consumption.
I’m a stranger, and I can’t imagine
swimming without drowning, without just drowning
in your waves — my waves? your waves on me?
Your wound is an oceanic abyss,
might I be swept in the tides in your veins,
tributaries tangled with memories of death?
But I am a guest, awhile here
in the storm of your soul. How should I stay?
I can remember the bright of the fire
while it still chars. I can swim in the depths,
if I can remember the air above.
I will remember for two and wait
for you to take the mem’ries of my love.