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
