there are days
even years

when life circles around one word
everything you do and think and feel and see
somehow finds its way back to you in
this same combination of line and shape
picking and choosing each step carefully
watching out for the trap of A
the tail of Q
the slithering snake of S

this word will always come home to you
even if you don’t want it
or like it
or imagine it tattooed on an ankle
just in the spot where a shackle would hide it

you tuck it under your tongue
where it rolls around
in a constant struggle to
your infidelity
your use and abuse
of all those other words

the ones that don’t belong to you

this word refuses to be swallowed

catching in your throat and
haunting you
taunting you
with threats to expose

your silence





A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month.
This post is part of NaPoWriMo. see more here.


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