I was always meant to fall in love
with self-discovery
and whatever facilitated
my way to that
but so often I mistook criticism
and manipulation
and attempted amputation
for the catalyst I had sought
so that in that way
the love that never was
is the only one that is
for revealing the secret heart
I birthed
for loving my own heart
and isn’t that exactly
what the masters
of the ancient world
wished that we would know of love
when they named the card of us

the rising sun nudges my shoulder
then bounces back to greet me
through the rear view mirror
and you are in my bones
but you were never here
like no one ever is
and I am the friend only
of the miles and dreams
and all the inbetweens
when sometimes kindness is a stranger
because compassion hasn’t learned
how best to be familiar
and it all gets fucking hard
but the earth doesn’t ask you
to read instruction manuals
about yourself
but places her offerings in your mouth
until she opens hers
and swallows you with her kiss
back home
and what could I have ever been
but not-what-I-was-supposed-to-be
like when you lose something
and it comes back but not the same
and only half the way
to where it’s going to be
so potentials and pasts get held
as the means of measure
nothing in the act of evolution
could ever stand up to
and I had to choose
so I chose me
and that’s a solitary fate
but when the sun rises
I am not alone
and the love that could never do
just is
and blinds me to where I’m going
when it catches me with its reflection
glinting from the rear view mirror