Semi-colon between a you and a me
for my friend dealing with a stack of hardships
.
OK… so today I’ll be the dot, because
I see you’re caught
in the curve of a comma and it might be useful to look
up and see me, and imagine that you too
are a dot, for the ones you love, caught
in the curve of other commas—
and sure you can shave your head,
and maybe you’ll look more like
a dot than a sweep of a tressed comma,
and sure, you can talk about those worms,
seaming the way through tunnels,
but in no way are you close to dead.
You’ll hinge and stitch and patch
through this life just fine, no matter
how lonely. My mum taught me that
saying, stretch and patch, as we coaxed
pie dough to fit the pan, and no one
cared what those apple pies looked like.
They smelled and tasted just fine.
Here, try a backflip for your comma,
whack my dot… you think falling
apart doesn’t involve stretching out my arms
to hug you?
Here’s a thought: Semi (half-baked); Colon :
symmetric pair turned
lopsided, then joined—
On a good day, this notion could give rise
to a cheeky wink;
I know… right now the mascara is dribbling
down and sobs don’t work with winks
so I’ll just repeat what a semi colon says—
we’re not done crossing the river— but I won’t mind
a pause. Just enough to roll your breath
tight into that dot… then let it out
for that sashay of a line as we wait
for what’s next.