Tuesday, December 16, 2008

To No Thing

I am stingy in forever
but I apologize well, sincerely
with nothing to show but slippered-feet and clean sheets
If I knew that this is all there ever was
What comfort!
A lesson cannot be talked
We can say to a child the oven is hot
we only know when we get burned

I will say it is raining when actually it sprinkles
I will say it is false when it truly is true
I will say the ornaments are a waste when, really, they are a joy
I will say I am blinded when I have seen
This all depends on my side of the road
When I visit the other, then maybe I will know
the gravel from the dirt
the smog from the clouds
appreciate a sunset for all it’s literary filth
and know that I can never, ever have seen
then I can open my mouth to the rain, my hands to your palm, my eyes to no thing

by Cristina Paul

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