How to Love
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This is how big the heart is: you drop into
the well and you don’t hit bottom. You
never knew it could be so dark. You never
knew how much you wouldn’t be able to see.
Your voice comes out harsh, trying to rise
through all that water. You grab at the stone,
scratch your fingertips bloody, scream
in your fierce and puny voice trying to hold on.
Instead—swim. You were never intended
to walk on land. Imagine the lyrical arc
of your back, the clean dive, your watery
grace. Wake your remnants of gills, breathe.
Whenever you’re tempted to rise, sky
the goal, whenever you’re tempted to open
your mouth to air, forget land. Instead—dive.
Then dive deeper. You know where you belong.
Published by Spoon River Poetry Review, 2011
the well and you don’t hit bottom. You
never knew it could be so dark. You never
knew how much you wouldn’t be able to see.
Your voice comes out harsh, trying to rise
through all that water. You grab at the stone,
scratch your fingertips bloody, scream
in your fierce and puny voice trying to hold on.
Instead—swim. You were never intended
to walk on land. Imagine the lyrical arc
of your back, the clean dive, your watery
grace. Wake your remnants of gills, breathe.
Whenever you’re tempted to rise, sky
the goal, whenever you’re tempted to open
your mouth to air, forget land. Instead—dive.
Then dive deeper. You know where you belong.
Published by Spoon River Poetry Review, 2011
