Epithalamium
       

I am afraid of holding
a person up off the ground
and I am proud
because it is a fear
that protects others.
After all, it's a skill to hold
someone and anyone
who says otherwise
is a liar or too wild
to be in charge of anything
born with two nipples,
two hairless palms.
Who can say for certain
the number of people
who have held all of me
up off the ground?
Many now have names
they've taken from others.
A few are strong
and a few distrust strength.
I made some of them tired
and I'm sure they tried
to stop being tired but trying
is a tiring act. I'm sure, too,
that some were naturally
beautiful and I bet I felt that
distance. Some bobbed me
and walked me around
and grew tributary-like
veins near their hairlines
when they noticed a view
I could only see
if they lifted me up
over their heads
like I was a canned good
being put away
on the top shelf
They are strangers to me
but they've gathered
on my behalf
They're on a temporary
dancefloor in a hotel ballroom.
They're full of airline
chicken breasts and potato
au gratin and in their hands
·they crinkle the calligraphy
of their name cards.
It would be my request
that each of them touch
the backs of my knees
and the back of my neck,
that they breathe onto me,
that they make the noises
they made to calm me
when I needed calming
and the noises they made
when I needed to be passed on
to someone else.

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Copyright © 2019 Josh Kalscheur All rights reserved
from West Branch
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission