just the tip of the word

my best time

there’s a party and you ask me
not to be there

i spend an hour in the mirror
watching my eyes grow large
as bowls

they fill i empty them
they fill again i empty them
they don’t fill with anything

i pretend i am not myself
i leave myself well enough alone

i imagine being on stilts
similar to a giraffe, just
giving up on the ground

but love is here, that coat of a word
you’ve patted over my back

and i’m not a graceful woman
not even a graceful child
i have no grace left in me

there’s a place where you’ve gone
and i try to want other door hinges
other windows, different furniture

this was my best time, to love another

- mackenzie connellee