All I want
is to show up
without
my wrapping,
without a song
I have already sung,
without any words
that I’ve rehearsed,
without this suitcase
of shoulds that for years
I have lugged everywhere.
And when the masks
and clever scripts
and weight come back,
I want to lose them again.
Such a rich distillation toward solely the essence, the axiomatic, the final elegance.
wow…. so in sync it boggles me. love, love, love.
You know, R, those “without…” lines are the rhythm here, and you should hear it like I hear it, WITHOUT those lines that qualify — specifically, lines 6, 8, — and somehow I want to hear that last line with the word without.