And so what if I am lying

So what if I bless myself

before anyone else

give myself permission to be both

the axe and handle of wood waiting

to be chopped into an anchor

or a bird or the man at the club

who put a hand on my hip and pressed

a tongue to my ear in an attempt

to reach God

or his wife

I should have been born earlier

or danced better in the throng---

My friend tells me watching me date

is like seeing someone fail at chess

another friend tells me I radiate anxiety

What can I say except

I don’t like uncertainty, or Mondays,

or boys with silver tongues

who don’t call me back

and I am tired of waiting

and I am a hull full of the best water

and I am trying here

I am trying