“I know that as long as I live, nothing can justify me…”–Wislawa Szymborska
‘i lift myself in afternoon air,
slow down and think about the wrongs,
when I am trapped and caught in bones and sold, and no one demanded anything else of me.
I could be the highest bidder,
seen gold scatter and purchased, all the riches between the teeth,
clenched my life and grew some more.
I would be justified in all my wrong-doings, justified in the chaos,
that split itself in my chest, where the heart used to be,
a swarming ensued, wasps in the mind, clung and stung all the logic out of me.
I whisper to the judge, cut and fuss about simple things,
I also see you execute every faint, weak dream,
if I could be so justified in all my actions and ask no questions and receive no answers,
for the loose ends, untied and unwind me in the stale afternoon air,
I am undone, and this was the cause, the last of it.