and say, sit here. eat. you will love again |
the stranger who was your self. give wine. give bread. give back your heart to itself, to the stranger who has loved you all your life, whom you ignored for another, who knows you by heart. take down the love letters from the bookshelf, the photographs, the desperate notes, peel your own image from the mirror. sit. feast on your life. |
If you have taken this rubble for my past
raking through it for fragments you could sell
know that I long ago moved on
deeper into the heart of the matter
If you think you can grasp me, think again:
my story flows in more than one direction
a delta springing from the riverbed
with its five fingers spread
-Adrienne Rich
