CALL ME BELOVED

I’m waking to soft skin, a body
I don’t feel like merely piloting
like a marionette, yanking

bundles of soul-strings – forcing
waves and smiles, frantic joints snapping
yes, this could be fine – I’m

broken and I’m screaming and I’m screaming
but yes, yes, this could be fine – I’m sorry.
I’m putting the puppet strings down.

You’ve been there the whole time,
waiting your turn, making our insides churn
for a way out – maybe you can be now.

I made sure the coast was clear. I cut
the strings – I have to trust you, now
because I’m tired and I’m broken and I’m

crying. These were never supposed to be
my hands; I’ve just been seeing your eyes
in the mirror, so don’t worry about me.

I trust you. I’m finished. Now we can be.