Promise
Rebecca Brenner
I try to rest, but God is awake
her full moon rising over pink sandstone cliffs.
I tell her I am just one person,
a child of life
with a gladness to be here,
unable to sleep
because he seems insane
yelling at the other drivers on the desert road.
She tells me to speak out loud what I’m thinking.
I tell her I am mostly a mystery to myself,
ancient cells bundled tight against lungs
a tangle of all the couples who came before.
She tells me to act my age and call the heart what it is,
I place my palms over my eyes,
promise her we are done now with war.
her full moon rising over pink sandstone cliffs.
I tell her I am just one person,
a child of life
with a gladness to be here,
unable to sleep
because he seems insane
yelling at the other drivers on the desert road.
She tells me to speak out loud what I’m thinking.
I tell her I am mostly a mystery to myself,
ancient cells bundled tight against lungs
a tangle of all the couples who came before.
She tells me to act my age and call the heart what it is,
I place my palms over my eyes,
promise her we are done now with war.
Rebecca Brenner featured in Time, the LA Times, Tin House, and The Rumpus.
© Variant Literature Inc 2023