Weren’t we supposed
to hide in the darknesses of those moments
shades of trees, shadows from the future
mere silhouettes, now no longer discernible.
Weren’t we allowed
to finally make one or the other suggestion
some word, some look, some twitch
mere gestures, now no longer asked for.
Weren’t we welcomed
in the arms of our ancestors-to-be
our former successors and predecessors yet to come
mere figures, now no longer calling.
Weren’t we held
back before those edges, those tapered cliffs
raw rock, crumbling with every our step
mere gravity, now no longer pulling.
Weren’t we so prudent, so ever prudent,
so reluctant and hesitant, so fine-tuned
to the sensitivities of all the others?
Hadn’t we hidden something from them all,
in the corners of our eyes?
in the warmth of our palms?
in every single motion
before us and at our feet?
The say yes, you were, and they know
that we will have felt determined yet free,
that we will have held the keys to what binds us.
We breathe supposition and allowance
and have convinced freedom
of believing it were where it isn’t.