UNLEARNING

They say the right moment
is the moment when 

the flower opens. And so,

I guess, here I go: having
the temerity not to grow

but protect still-
tender tendrils
with the pesticide of no.

I am sick unto death
of watering fear,

of waiting 

to unfold, and of the canker
of comparison;

tired of hope which hardens 

to the blight of demand, 

and of that stealthy 

predator called 

Anointed Expectation.

Discernment, from here, 

be my point-sharp shears

to prune away 

all these

blanched leaves of want

and desire's ever-

proliferating branches—

for, if not for your 

rhizomatic thinking, I never 

would have thought

that accumulation could lead 

to such devastating loss.