it's the smell of a room once you leave it, that makes me hesitate
in the doorway or open a window. I could never wish pain
on anyone, you taught me that in your roundabout way
(I don't think you were aware
of your lessons, the tears streaking my sister's face)-
I could never wish glass in your heel
or a car coming too fast out of a turn. This isn't kindness
on my part- pain hurts me. But I am leaving soon, and
I would not be there to see the rosebush scratch your eyes,
I wouldn't hear the crunch of bone (maybe
not a car accident, maybe a bad fall)
and the phone call
that would inevitably come
would not inspire any sympathy pains-
normally hearing about a dislocated knee
will make my own ache, but
there are always
exceptions.
in the doorway or open a window. I could never wish pain
on anyone, you taught me that in your roundabout way
(I don't think you were aware
of your lessons, the tears streaking my sister's face)-
I could never wish glass in your heel
or a car coming too fast out of a turn. This isn't kindness
on my part- pain hurts me. But I am leaving soon, and
I would not be there to see the rosebush scratch your eyes,
I wouldn't hear the crunch of bone (maybe
not a car accident, maybe a bad fall)
and the phone call
that would inevitably come
would not inspire any sympathy pains-
normally hearing about a dislocated knee
will make my own ache, but
there are always
exceptions.
