Everything

and everyone

you ever loved

will one day

find themselves

at a crossroad—

where you’ll be

standing

pocketing fists

hunched like a Lily,

or else dancing

ripped like paper

on a wall full of flowers

looking lovely—

except they won’t know you

anymore, not anymore

than you know your own self—

cheeks, rosy as embers

the lush on the floor,

I’ll know his name well

you bet I’ll be singing—

So best get to knowing,

before you regret

a lifetime pretending

you’ve remembered only

to forget.