A Lick and a Promise

I hang tapestries
Tacitly placed
In the face
Of destiny
I hang photos as reminders
As my lens
As my lens bends to detect new realities
I lean too close to those who think they know
Just in case
I too can see that cardboard outlines
That outline
The next five years I’ll be here
Why am I here?
Why am I here?
I say to myself quietly
So I won’t really hear
Here in this crowded new cacophony
Of new faces
Of new numbers to call
To find
On the line
The same answers
To lame questions
I’m ashamed I’m still asking.
I am gasping for air
As I hang here from a lick and a promise
But I’ll stick to my promise
To move to new hemispheres
This time in my own mind
I’ll hold minds in my hands
Instead of my thoughts
Untie these knots
With the same hands with which they were tied
Because, though I’ll never know certainty
I can certainly try.

-- Moira