At a Reading
I was shocked and appalled
by that daring poet who came in to
audaciously tell me about myself,
but it turns out that she was talking to you,
so I needn't have worried.
Waited to look at you
til I could go back behind my eyes,
then saw you with the same struggle.
Something touched you, then?
Touched by a stranger's poem about us
more than all the words I could hurl at you,
she got further in, closer than I'd ever hoped
What has she got that I haven't?
