Circling

We had words

Barking at thoughts put into raw syllables

And I am all so small and sweet and raging

It’s all so colossal this life of feeling

And then so small and slouched

I raise first you follow, flags of surrender , flags for boredom, apathy and cut glass remonstrances , nuanced performances of passion and why did the gloves come off, as if

I wind my way back to you, forgiveness, forgetfulness, dragged by loneliness and habit to reach out

a hand, my hand

Circling, still feeling it belongs just to me.