Lines to Myself

This looks much better on paper. It’s all formated in two columns, so the white space bewteen the words makes a diamond in the middle.

To Be Continued

Twenty-three years lost in everybody
else to avoid yourself, two for this
epiphany to strike [and stay lit],
one [this year] for tripping,
dipping toes in anise-
tinged recovery
ascension.
Two
decades
spent passing
mirrors as if they
were windows meant
only for the looking out,
never the looking in. It is time
to see every window as a mirror:

your image super-imposed on each
sunrise. Learn again [for the first
time] to take asylum in the
silence. Grasp the hands
that have always been
reaching. Listen to
each wrinkle,
memorise
every freckle.
After, make lucid
all the lines written in
your own limbs so those
who study your hands learn
of imperfections begetting beauty,
of ‘weaknesses’ begetting wisdom.