yejunee

the words fail me. 
sand in an hourglass, running out 
between my fingers. 

they flee 
like the monsters from Pandora's jar 
except Elpis leaves too 
unwilling to stay 
not for me. 

I wish that my hands were softer 
meant for holding and loving, the way 
my mother's do. 

I wish that my tongue were not so sharp 
carelessly, unthinkingly cruel, 

step one 
plant a seed 
bury it, life begins in death 
water every day. 
be patient. this takes time. 

step two 
or one and a half, if you don't feel like it 

no one is missing a piece. 
there are simply spaces 
where other people fit. 

(arms over shoulders, 
heads on necks, 
an elbow in her side, 
your hand holding in his.) 

there's something inside your ribs 
and it's beating 
and it's alive. 

can you hear it? 

there's blood pulsing through your veins 
electricity in your brain