Wild, May 2000

2000 july0001

In the starry darkness

I cling to D’s side, feeling his breath

rise and fall like a steadfast tide.

I lay still in the eye of the storm

spinning wild.  Everything

swirls without anchors…

Mom is packing everything away.

Even though I thought she’d rejoice

my story of happiness-at-last crashed

against her shuttered face.

Dad rejoices with me, but

he is divorcing again, already

living with another woman

a hundred miles north, far away

from all of us.  She wore his torn red sweatshirt

the night we first met and handed me a fistful

of wilting lilacs.  Too much to absorb,

too many objects whirling around me

on a bed in a spinning house

like Dorothy.  I worry about my sisters,

watching the future sky with desperate fear

as if a tornado has been spotted.

My new roommate situation is disintegrating

like tissue paper in a downpour.

My grades are slipping

because I’m spending too many

nights at D’s place, waking up

safe in his arms.

I’m too ashamed

to reach for God now.

Surely his arms are folded in displeasure

because I moved too fast with D.

D feels like my only

anchor in this storm.

He gave me a beautiful

lavender rose bouquet for Mother’s Day,

and said I will be a great mother

to our children someday.

Everyone thinks he’s moving

way too fast, but a floodgate

has burst inside, and I’m not even trying

to stop the flow.

Yet as I hold onto D,

my security in this storm,

I know he can’t be tamed

and I will never

be completely free

from the wild.

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