Day One

what would happen
if I let go
of “woman”
of breasts and fear and rings and bills

what if I let go

of love and hope and future and vows
what if I let go
of degrees and dances and late nights and exams

what if I
let go

of skinned knees and snowflakes and picnics and broken hearts

and the place with the trees and the lake
and the haunting cry of the loon

what if I let go

of pajamas with feet, my beakie
and the smell of me and my brother
snuggled in a nest
the creak of my crib mattress
and the rocking of the chair
that lulled me to sleep

what if I let go of “what if”

if I erased

classrooms, lovers, hardwood floors, Advent services
piano lessons
overhead projectors
chastity, virginity, and the holy ghost
yarn
purple carpet
seashells
white drapes
pentagrams
lilac bushes
acolyte robes
fresh cut grass

If “I” disappeared

and started over. again.

again.

again.
          and
               again.

on day one

who would I chose to be

over who I was made to be

–Kat;Downs