Wrong?

Maybe there's an art to this, that I
haven't mastered yet. A way to hold
your heart so that the world
sinks deeper into it; and love,
along with other silly things,
can enter in. Is the trick in the wrist?
The twitch of my lips must not be perfect,
nor the sway of my hips or the way my fingertips
are buried in my fists; the way I laugh
instead of cry, or get excited about fighting.
Do you suppose that my legs are too rarely seen?
But who knows is any of this is true-
I'm just pulling at strings.
When it comes to deep, I
can rarely think things through.







Another one of those spur-of-the-moment, get-this-out-of-my-system things that I have a tendency to write.