Monday, October 30, 2023

COME CLEAN

After years 
and years of being 

steeped 
in the stuff, 

incompleteness 
has begun

to feel like 
an addiction. 

How could you even begin 
to revise 

these pitifully brief  
and rough 

outlines 
of feelings? 

Where is that hand 
which 

your hand 
was designed

(or at least 
had been counting on 

the vaguest 
plans) to touch?

Admit it: you're 
entranced  

by the voice you've 
been using 

to posit all these questions—
stoned 

on surprise, strung-out
on recognition—yet, 

you're helpless to resolve 
to dispense 

with these fictions, since 
you're trembling

even now, at the threat
of a decision.