Today I Realize

Today, I realize


that you are far,
the kind of far that
grabs me
too close till the night
unsaddles off her scent


and I wipe poetry
off my lips along
with everything that is
glossy


mortal
and baseless
then begin to convince my wings
that broken stuff sometimes
do draw eternity.


Today, I un-daydream of you
confessing
that I am no ballerina,
no poetess,
not any kind of magic-creator


and believe those who
once read my poetry
and swore that Medusa
doesn't only exist in Greek
books.


Today,


I make sure
that April isn't special
and all throughout the year
I'll find myself shivering,


I make sure that
I am from there -
from the land of smoke promises,
of anonymous ballads 
for an anonymous mother.


From the sequins
of a relegated luna.


Today, I make sure
that I am from there
and realize that there has
abandoned me.


---


Today, I realize
that when you dipped
your doorsill and all the
sunshine surrounding it
in my thoughts, it wasn't
your fault


and that you never
asked me to stich my feelings
into a shawl of similes;
you never asked me
for a poem.