Overheard, in the garden: Peter, put your sword away.
Now is the time for your attention.
If this to be a becoming, you cannot hold your guard.
It is impossible to bend into another body
while remaining upright. Hold another.
For what?
A dark hour. Then, keep holding. Wait.
***
In mourning, we unknow ourselves.
This is not an affirmation,
not a possibility or an idea.
***
What is it, then?
To stand in grief with any other,
bodies bowed to collect
what won’t fit in the borders
of any one, is to accept
a constant invitation
to unknow myself.
I was never a beginning
or an end––once or now,
and will never be.
Only we are here.
Hold.
