I read Lucille Clifton's blessing the boats. This is a day after I say something wise to my life coach (he calls it wise; I just repeat it here). Not sure I ever say anything wise to my analyst. I tell my friend, after the session, with my life coach not my analyst, that my assignment is to memorialize the phrase I uttered. I want a tattoo of it. I tell my friend I’ll prolong the desire. (May you prolong the desire.) This is a theme: Whatever you’re feeling now, you’re feeling now. Don’t identify—not yet. (May you not yet.) This is what my friend tells me, not my coach, not my analyst. So, “may you kiss/ the wind then turn from it/ certain that it will love your back”. I drop another friend off after a long walk, though it’s not “dropping off” if this friend suggested the walk and where to end it. (May you end it.) It’s leaving. And in this, taking hold of my friend’s words (the friend who tells me, not the friend who walks) and my coach’s, and my analyst’s, and Clifton’s, I find pleasure. In leaving. Though, after the fact.
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Nice poem Cassie!