The Arrow

Because I saw the brute because I saw him
Because I said, “you are a brute”
Because the policeman stared at me
Like I held the gun
The red blank impassable cube
My face
Because I had felt somehow
Like an arrow shot into sunlight
Shaking with velocity
A single clearing hot sweep
Into pale skies
Because of this
When I had finally put my body
Into a bed
And pulled the blue sheets to my neck
And forced myself to close the light
And bid myself, earnestly, to dream sweetly
I thought of my life
Like a final draft
And remembered myself
As my favorite character
The one who said
What I had hoped she would say
The one who knew me
In my most private conversations
And the one I would long for
After the book was done