The earth itself is a magnet.
Surely I knew this once,
but reading it today,
it was as if I had never known this before.
How many things have I forgotten?
And learned again only to forget again?
So many stains of emptiness.
Is it wrong to not think this is a bad thing?
This morning I woke with a now familiar pain.
Someday perhaps I will forget
these months of ache, the throb
that makes itself known whenever I am still.
Will I also forget the surprise today, was it thrill,
when I recognized each throb in my leg
as the beating of my heart.