socks
2 Jan
A pile of hopes, socks just out of the dryer,
top a new year. That is fine, but everyone
wants you to be careful to match the socks.
I am not careful. I am tired of being careful.
I throw love at you, and it could hit you in the face.
It is tiring to be loved haphazardly, I know.
Someone will tell you things about your past,
about how you should feel about your past,
or about how to match the socks.
All I say is shapes and colors matter little.
Some of them have gone missing anyway.
Love with force. Match or don’t match. Just catch.
– Halsted M. Bernard
