after Patricia L. Goodman
You are a test of existence, T
All challenges and hopes fused together in a tight torsion.
Your presence in time didn’t tell me when to trek those mountains
or wander those twisted trails.
You are part of what I teach – tall tales about what the world
was and could be. Tattered promises and gentle lies
stirred together in a tasty soup.
For some reason you don’t keep my tires intact for too long.
Tell me it’s to keep me on my toes, to keep me
from letting everything wear down until it’s too tempestuous
to keep moving or growing into the hot, twisted mess I need to be.
T, you are the largest molecules that make tears.
Tumultuously, you are the cross I wear proudly in tantalizing storms.