My poor little bitter one,
suffering from the mischance of a name -
you couldn't wait to enter this world,
and look how you rage at it now.

And rightly.

I'd take away your pain, if I could,
take away that storm-tossed sea
that feeds your tears,
erase the saline trails
carved down your cheeks,
unclench the fists
you flail to disguise your vulnerability.

If I could,
I'd make the taste of salt
unknown to your tongue
and an open hand your norm.

My poor little bitter one -
if I could, I'd show you
life's hidden sweetnesses.

But you can't see past the tears.

And I can't get past your fists.

09/22/2004

Author's Note: Orignally supposed to be Topic: The Knuckle-Folds Revealed, from Joe Chiles. For my sister, Marisa AnneMarie, whose names mean "Of the Sea/seawater", "Grace/pity/mercy", and "Bitter."

Posted on 09/23/2004
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