, ,

If it was, it would’ve

If it wasn’t, then what were you going on about

Always too late, never had anything to say for itself

And never had the decency to even look estranged

That land before your missing time was mine,

Was mine

All turned to dust when winds swept through

It’s fine; for you and I both knew what sort of trouble newer winds would brew

Was gonna meant there was a time between what happened and what we never dared to do

Was gonna win the spelling be grow up to be a diplomat get rich retire get married adopt twelve kids raise them right get widowed be the first woman priest and run off saving orphans from rhinoceros stampedes in Kenya before some Roman who hated orphans and Jesus dragged you off to burn at the stake and you could call at the monarchs who peered up at you from under ivory awnings while you burned that they couldn’t pull off the smoky-eyed look as well as they thought they could and by the way save a coal for yourself because Santa ain’t givin you toys this year

Or the one before that, where your father was gonna lose his job and make you all go door to door peddling roses and living in stables, making friends with the horses and learning how to talk to birds

I never sold a rose, my love, and that bit about the spelling bee did happen but it was, really, kind of disappointing

Oh but wasn’t it a lark to storm our martyrs fields, back when we thought it could be real?

The worse to wear, the more to feel

Before you’d convinced us both it was a silly thing to dream about – that flashing presence in your sight, and changing hands again and again to keep its rhythm up inside of you so all you saw was it and you were so sure you’d start to plan your strategies for taking rhinos down, run your crucifixion speech through spell check at least a dozen times to satisfy your eagerness to follow all the rules

The willing lambs had something, you’ve got to admit

(Maybe not wisdom or patience or sanity or breeding or decorum – but something)

That land before your missing time

Was mine, was mine

Was gonna have its cake and eat it too

Was gonna I believed in you

Yes, I remember, gold and dust

I miss you oh so very much but you were such a fevered flu

And so like the other moments, passing through

So maybe the story you told your heart can’t ever quite exist

Just remember you were here

My breath between the wind and stars

This much has to be your due

Less a sneer, then more a laugh – you’re out of touch, but not so much I can’t meander down its path

There ain’t no burying those maps

First woman priest , meh, wait and see

The world has firsts enough than me

I’ve got a thing or two to say about the way some dumb I’m Gonna tells a story anyway

Owe it to your every star to dream as big and hard and far as any martyr to her golden cause

And not a flaming asteroid has torch enough to give that breed a pause

So find it on the other side – a broader path, more room to stride, another dragon flexing all its claws

We’ll see what Was Gonna do

It turns to dust when winds sweep through

Don’t ever trust the ones who tell you no one loves the way the virgins do