when I am grown up

When I am grown up

When I find myself alone again

when the nagging voices have left

their yellow voices an echo only

leaving the door

open

When the red room is clear and filled with white light

I will gather my travels around me

like the four corners of a blanket

and become

myself

or

(maybe)

the embodiment of another woman

composed and self-assured

who sips espresso out of little cups

like Juliette Binoche

who smokes crude cigarettes with perfect splendor

or who can foretell the future

in a glass of wine

I shall have the poise of a courtesan

gifted in the arts of love

knowing when to come

and knowing

exactly

when to go

all the while

holding my love close

hidden

beneath my lapel

not blurting it out

in great red spurts

to anyone who will listen

but letting it trickle out

deliciously

like Indian tea through a saturated sieve

(The memory of the forest

shall lie hidden in my hands

not found in that red cage of a heart

at least not at

first

Oh let it only be shown to someone

who really cares

to know me

And only for those courageous enough

to walk through the reeds to the water’s edge

and still know of water)

Then

(perhaps)

I will call the child-princess back again

and let her

sing

sing

sing

without bleeding