✨ Saint of avowal

I wrote this poem...

Saint of avowal

         I wrote this poem so many times.
                        First because I was exploding.
         Then I had to write it quietly
                        so no one would find out. 
         There is the thing,         and the translation of the thing. 
               Everything else became about the fear,
                         the way a space could be neglected
                                                 or even filled.
                                    The fault
                         between hunger and indulgence. The way
          I want and I covet makes you nauseous, makes you whole.
It isn’t that I’m keeping a secret.             More that I am ruinous.
          I find myself at a sort of shoreline. 
                I wake up in water. I clean the salt from my hair.

—Lisa Marie Basile

First published in Moria. Used with permission of the poet. Photo by Eric Muhr, Unsplash license.