Wow, I held back for so long.
Shamed by how the depth of it
knocked me to the ground.
I am afraid of real hallucination.
Joy, I never gave up my heart to this
shit assessment—mentor delusion.
I’ve a governor. A sea of dead lovers
who speak to me; they say “if only”
from books where loneliest brilliance
never found its soul mate.
You grow better and, you’re welcome
I meanwhile do not have to sit
in the lowly status of idiom’s prowess.
It is miraculous to be heard by the living.
You were right that I am no one
to you—
gladly, to you, I am no one.
