Sunday, January 17, 2016

Poem Series: My Best

Liz Fink-Davenport

My heart will write what my mouth cannot speak. My mind will ache and hold tight when my fingers can't grasp. My soul will stretch to the edges of the world you created and then spill the rim like an over confident pour. You say that's the worst of me. You think the drumming in the dark can and should be muffled. That light is not going to leak out of your tight clenched fist; between fingers and glow behind a palm. You want to walk my depths and tread delicate gardens with a headlamp and torch and clumsy boots and a machete. You are picking locks and breaking glass and putting your shoulder into it and thieving. The best of me is kept from you.

I am not a rusting bolted latch.
I am not a hidden path.
Or hidden treasure.
I am not uncontained fire.
I am not a half sunken ship.
I am not a puzzle piece long lost.
I am not a dark cave.
I am not a car with bad breaks.
I am not a fearful rabid beast.
I am not tea in the saucer.
I am finger tips.
And knuckles.
And veins.

And salt. And the crease of my neck and the warmth of my belly and the arch of my foot. I am riddles and constellations. I am the roll of a road and the horizon unseen. Open hallways and calm pools. A secret and a labyrinth. I am thunder and the heart pounding wait for lightening. I am phenomenal woman. And feral. I need no leash. My stride is sparks from bare heels that light the world in fireworks. I am both the dust and dirt in the cracks in your skin and the light of sunrise that warms the frost from the leaves and starts the day. I am a start. And I am a finish. And that is worst and the best of me.

So don't think that my drumming needs your hand to stay it. And stop your robbery. It's useless. Unclench your fist around the fear of light escaping your possession. I scare the hell out of you. That is the worst of me. So come here and take off your fear. I'll help you undress. You have possibly never seen a creature like me so I will speak softly. Put down your trembling and let me slip you gently into me. Come. Quiet now. Let me show you that some wildfire is not meant to be contained. This fire is mine. And it will burn the edges of the universe. And your whole world. And you will think that is the best of me.