You hurtful creature.
I smile now, on the subway,
red seats cushioning my memories
in a small red pouch that I will leave behind
in six – no fivestops. I smile and I wish you –
all of you – stocky, brown bo(d)y
(no, not yet a man -I
was wrong about that)
clever words, and directionless, passive in
your intent, the worst kind of intent –
that grey spilling, tea leaves pooling in your saucer
as indifferent to people and the world as clouds,
yes, all of you, body and lethargic tamas limbs, that
which is left when will disappears, I wish you
the kind of peace that you will long for
when all your days turn grey and meaningless.
The kind of peace that threatens to never appear
again in your life – I wish you this peace, that seems
unreal, surreal, too good to be true,
and most certainly, too good for you. I wish you
a witch’s wish which always seeks to name the truth
of the universe, the balance of our actions, so when you
long for this peace, know that it is within your reach,
but to reach it you will have to remember me, and what you did.
When you feel desperate in your heart, you will seek me out, crawling through thorny memories, you will choose to remember me.
When you hurt the the woman you will eventually love, (and
you will; that isn’t a curse, but just a simple extrapolation
based on current data), or, when she hurts you,
you will find me then, swimming in memory pools, a mermaid witch, and you will choose to remember me. When you feel guilt, finally, for what you did and it floods your lungs in an echo of my gentle laughter, when indifference is no longer a refuge, when you stop running from yourself, I will come dancing through the watery grave of your memories; yes, you will call me to your mind. Don’t worry, I will be kind.
(But my kindness will not change how you will drown)
So I have you left you this: forgiveness in a small red pouch,
a Christmas present on a small red seat
in a subway car this December 8th.
It will find you, along with my memories.
I cannot say what happens when you open it,
but this shall be your only path to peace.
You, like others, will learn:
The only thing worse
than a witch’s curse
is her forgiveness.