Hannah Gamble
WE HAVE NO INSTINCTS, ONLY LEGS TO RUN ON
and if one is running, all objects
appear blurry. I do not understand
how I see some movements of your face,
and not others. I know
in each flinch, you are telling me
something. I have forgotten what to ask
because now there is nothing but
questions. In an ocean, I can’t see
the drops of water and also,
not the salt. Once you described
my temperament as salty, and not
in a kind way. Similarly,
my nose is longer than yours
and I never knew to feel bad
about it. For I was born innocent
and stayed that way until only
recently. So I define innocence
in my own way and refuse to listen
to people who pay no attention
to how I like to be spoken to. I learned
to be demanding from the Lord, who asks
a lot of me. If I disappoint him, it is only
because at night, I’m too tired. It is at night
that the Lord wants my courage,
and he brings his creations to my door
to test me. I send them away
with words, but often I fear
that they will send me away
and live in my house where it’s warmer,
since the human home is the envy
of creation. We use our homes to advertise
our blessings. Yet creation does not feel blessed
and someone told me that’s our fault.