James Diaz writes

Cara, May I Say

you've rearranged me quietly

and in the night

where i once ran barefoot and blind

i come to you years removed from all of that damage

i will not lie

there have been some people

in my life who have never been

happy to see me

they shook me out like a rug

till I thought love was only threadbare

most of my life 

I have been learning the difference

between my fault

and no one's fault

but - my time with you, time itself, you see -

she is always a shared creature, 

time, not enough time, too much time has passed

how we grow or sometimes fail to - one small bone into another

garden gadgets from some fallen world

I think I'd want only you standing in that light

at the end of the hall

called memory-is-fleeting

better grab hold of what you can

when I say: joy -

I mean; just this splitting of light

through a body 

I mean the fracture makes a thing more beautiful 

than perfection, I mean that I know you have seen things

you cannot un-see, 

are broken inside

like anyone who has ever lived

outside of a womb

long enough to feel what times takes

and what she gives

I mean that in between everything that gets lost

and found

there is so much

we don't we have a name for.