A Conversation
I see you, fear.
I see you once again and say
‘hey’
formidable
crafty
opposer.
Mess-making
friend
who turns the
neatly arranged
inner furniture
up-side-down
and
brings all manner
of havoc
to me—
unbidden.
You arrive at my door in many costumes;
posing beneath a plethora of masks and feelings;
beneath a mask of magic,
now you’re here . . .
and now you’re not.
my body—startled by your arrival
every
single
time.
You and your ever-present partner
shame
plotting a game of
hide and seek.
Nervous system
blinks and crackles
like lightbulb’s warning
threatening me;
putting me on edge.
I see you fear.
I see you and sometimes remain unmoved;
turning my head away
pretending you are not there.
a reaction
of
survival.
You see,
I know there’s really no
rhyme or reason
to your game;
unpredictable as
a summer storm.
What’s this?
I wonder…
body tense from the simple bleep
of a text.
Voice of the unknown.
One of many things
(so many things)
that arrive at my door.
I see you fear.
I see you entirely
for
who you are.
This time, I face you full on.
You’re an actor, really,
and when I face you
the fourth wall drops–
the veil is lifted.
You are not all you seem.
Nor am I.
Donning a cloak
of strength
I repeat words given
to me:
All is well.
All will be well.
All manner of things will be well.
