I know how to catch a word before it bruises
someone else’s mouth. I know how to tuck
my softness into the smallest corner of the
room. I know how to hold a thing together
until my hands forget how to let go.

but I also have a talent for unraveling, for
picking at the seam of a sentence until it fits
just right or not at all. there are some days,
that the knowing outpaces the being. some
days, I am more tightrope walker than
compass, more spine than song.

some days, I am so busy carrying it all that I
forget I am allowed to set it down.
I am allowed to set it down.

I can be the mistake I forgive, the withered
leaf, the half-finished sentence, the unwritten
poem, the fractured star.

I am allowed to be unfinished and holy
anyway.

~