Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Do Not Do

I’m reading about Taoism
and the Way
and the do not do

sitting here, trying to keep
so very still, till the blood slows down
and I can feel my bones start to re-grow.
So that the other parts of me
will have a chance at the steering wheel for awhile.
Will know what it feels like to navigate
the complications
that I have laid like tiny mines
up the staircase.

This is my Do Not Do.

Except for the tiny details I can’t seem to
erase from the attic hatch
of my memory where you lay
like a ragdoll
propped up against a toy chest
filled with vials of clear dripping liquid,
runes, cloth sacks of henna,
a skeleton key, a jar full of river water,
a lock,
snakeskin and that leather journal with the dog-eared pages
that I’m keeping for later.
But I’ve saved enough space in there, in that wooden chest
for me, thank god.

I’m falling
and while I’m falling
all I promise is that I will hit the ground.
Everything after that is yours.

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