First Day Home

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FIRST DAY HOME


It’s just that yesterday, before

we brought her sister home, 

she was a different person 

or I was a different person, 

but however you spin it 

it was a quick-rinse cycle

and something doesn't fit the same. 


It’s nothing like regret, 

it’s just that today, holding 

her sister, I can just remember 

what our life was like before 

a second, but I can also feel

that memory growing restless 

and looking for a little apartment 

somewhere far enough away

where we can only visit occasionally. 


Remember how we couldn’t 

remember what we used to do 

on Saturday’s when it was just 

the two of us, though there were 

literally hundreds of Saturdays 

with just the two of us? 


It’s just that, as you put it, 

everything’s such a stage, 

and at this stage we’re both the players 

and the audience, the curtain 

perpetually opening as we tangle 

in the costume-closet, rushing 

to ready ourselves for the newest role 

of ourselves, if only to find it—

already—a bit tight.


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