I have laid down
my voice, my fingers’ renderings
of sounds I made when you left.
.
I have done the takes
over and over, hit the button,
pause, delete, record.
I finished last night,
and found I could not stop
replaying the unedited cut,
that slice of loss and longing,
the song that had haunted me
and now I could finally hear.
.
I have almost forgotten
how it was to be haunted.
.
It surprised me,
how beautiful it was. How trapped.
It does not cling to me with barbs anymore.
It is not a sound I pretend to forget,
that guttural crooning, springing
from the bottom of me.
.
I have laid you down
with no hostility or shame.
I have lit fires in that dark,
and made shadows dance on the walls.
I have learned to love
the knots you tied
in me.