Hour Five: Justified

“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.

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