Troublesome Expectations

I apologize to you and all your fellow readers

Throes of Creation by Leonid Pasternak
Throes of Creation by Leonid Pasternak

I apologize if you happen to be a poet
I apologize if you happen to be
I apologize for what I am about to do.

feeling the black edges of letters is a fine thing
hovering careful at the edge of dreaming
sort of like the green on a not quite ripe orange
or the clinging of an incandescent non-rhyme

you have never known the truth when it did not matter
you have never felt the absence of memory
you have never been known to really lose yourself
you have never known what I am about to do

the measurements between a fine line
can be more than can be convincing
at least not when the pelting of a run away heart
is buried deep within a savory surface.

Do you remember a time when your mother told
a story that could not be true though you did not
know why and yet even in your disbelief you
believed and held no questions against your memory

There was true beauty there though sometimes
you wondered if it was only in your imagination
or if the imagination was a collective thing sort of
like the ocean, air, and a single shared soul

Forgiveness could be asked,
admissions of guilt can be offered
what is taken will not always be given
what is given will not always be taken

I apologize for the poem I’m about to write.

Troublesome Expectations

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