The only whole heart is a broken heart.
The Kotzker Rebbe
i know the feel of road on skin,
the consciousness of speed
that’s never rush enough,
the edge tracks lead to
and the train-crash in,
that free fall down
the rabbit hole
and no end.
of climbing back through
all i had become:
a darker element,
that other one.
of facing yet again
my parent, son,
daughter, spouse
i abandoned
for the crack house.
and i am scared, god,
scared of what’s ahead.
i’ve backtracked every mile,
distance measured
not in time or place,
but by annihilating stasis.
now upon this crossroad
every way i turn a mirror.
at my heel the small
uninterrupted deaths i chose.
at hand the future, i am told,
my every impulse wants to flee.
sometimes it’s just a shadow
or the light that etches out the trees.
sometimes i see its face—
my own—staring back at me.
and though i form its bones
and breathe its breath,
it seems a wounded animal
i want to love outside my reach.
but, god, i swear this time—
this time—
i will go slow towards it,
tame and feed it every day,
just a bit.
until it follows me
around like the sun.
until it sits beside me
in the moonlight
quiet and calm.
and the shadows in the sparkling water
show a paw and hand,
until we blend.
the same when,
spinning in the wind,
i take its shape, i bend.
the leaves, my soul, the air one skin.
some circle in me left unbroken
or a broken circle,
that, by entering,
i mend.