[a poem in two voices]

Sunday morning, evergreen forests, sacred scripture.

[I wish I had been given the chance to meet you before I did.]

The first warm day of spring, tender peaches, ivory linen.

[If only I had known you as a small, wandering child.]

Crisply folded origami flowers, Christmas Eve, candle wax.

[You are summer and salt and radio static. You make me feel.]

Would you have wanted me back when I wasn’t who I am now?

[Take a wild guess. Look at me. Read the answer.]

But even when I wasn’t me? When I was bad, when I wasn’t—

[Even then.]

You didn’t let me finish. I was far from worthy—[Even then.]