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where is the home… for Ari

May 22, 2013

one day or another
when I was still younger
I dropped something,
it slipped from my mind. Maybe I left it behind somewhere.

it was a gracefully strong idea,
an elegant and simple idea,
of both deep destination and reverent return. Perhaps it’s still where I left it.

I think I didn’t mind
when initially I noticed
that I had misplaced it. I assumed it would show up again if it was in any way important.

maybe I thought it was immature
maybe I thought it was stupid and weak. Maybe I thought I had outgrown it.

I see it now in the auras of old photographs,
in the margins of re-read books,
lurking in the painted sunsets of favourite films,
deep in the heart of welcoming poems.

I wish I could remember exactly what it was.
I remember it was after-bath clean, and
day-before-birthday exciting, and
ice-cream delicious, and
first-kiss thrilling. And it lullaby’d me, and whispered that it was safe to sleep.

if I had known how useful it would be
to soften the darknesses,
how helpful to soak up the sorrows,
I’d have tied it to my wrist,
tattoo’d it to my ankle.
That is to say, that’s what it must have been. Now that I can taste its absence.

because one day or another
when I was still younger
I dropped something. I don’t know what it was, but I ache for it
when the lights go out.

Perhaps it’s still where I left it.

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