That I'd manage to glue together the
slivers
of my shattered pride,
repair the tattered wings of my aborted
flights,
and obtain my body's leave to bid you
farewell—
I didn't know.
I had learned so little about myself.
Otherwise this ritual of saying goodbyes
could have ended long ago;
I could've found my courage earlier.
But who then had the time to meet herself? |
