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I

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When did I learn the word “I”?
What a mistake. For some,
     it may be a placeholder,
     for me it’s a contagion.
For some, it’s a thin line, a bare wisp,
     just enough to be somewhere
     among the gorgeous troublesome you’s.
For me, it’s a thorn, a spike, its slimness
     a deceit, camouflaged like a stick insect:
     touch it and it becomes what it is:
ravenous slit, vertical cut, little boy
     standing upright in his white
     communion suit and black secret.








Source: Poetry (July/August 2013)

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This poem originally appeared in the July/August 2013 issue of Poetry magazine

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