—DEAR INSECURITY

  

Orange Shag

 

I keep backpedaling 

over and across 

the orange shag rug 

where everything altered 

and announced itself like 

a menstrual first  

a painful childbirth 

or death row confession 

I’d pick off hairs and 

clotted knots of memory 

from the tangles 

hold them up to the light 

like a pensive watch maker

sniffing or even licking them 

desperate for some 

kind of truth 

that didn’t lie right back to me

and I was a kid then 

but I wasn’t 

and you weren’t 

and what happened 

and happened and 

happened

was as honest as a sunset

which is why I 

set the floor on fire 

and left home for good