A Different Life

What secret do I hold,
you ask,
where do I find in this
uncertain place
a wind of promise,
a map of belonging?

There is no familiarity
raised around my soul
that endures,
I confess.
Instead,
a future palm,

a mischievous beckoner,
sometimes grasps me,
leads me to ever increasing
continents of vulnerability
and boldness.

Do you think that only
I hold this secret,
that alone, I arrive
at the equatorial flower’s
opening song?
But you ignore

your parallel self,
its pitiless multiplicity,
as if it had come
un-tethered from you;
and yet,

it leaps and plays beside you
in an unseen ocean,
where you could learn to
fear again, your own impossibility.

No, I am no different
from you,
but I have conversed alone,
trembling,
with my
reckless love.