What Was Right

There was a brink
I had reached
with startling clarity

the nerves built up
thick, on my tongue
coating the lining of my throat

a ghost
came out of me
a fantasy
a jagged daydream that placed the words
in my mouth
and whittled them out
from between sharpened teeth

and then I smacked against
the thick concrete
gray, and rolled right over
not mangled, not bruised
but emboldened
coppery and blue
and I opened my mouth
and sailed past
and flung the truth
over my left shoulder

knowing what the salt
would leave
in my wake
but I didn't care
though my voice warbled
and although I entertained the comment
as the idea of mistake

I knew
as soon as I extricated myself
from that space
tense and volatile
and jagged on all sides
I knew that
all would be
well
finally I had stood
way up and
countered hell

and when I came across her later
I beamed a smile
proud
of this place we'd arrived
a tumultuous ride
that peaked on dusty ground

and I was still trembly
a bit unsteady
and not quite ready
for the fire to ensue
and gobble up the truth

I didn't know yet
that tears would clog my eyes
my mouth twist to the side
that I
would acquiesce
and move
as not to cause any more
strife
but in that moment
my eyes, they said
I had done
at last
what was right.






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