Asylum
       

I choose to love the dawn; it speaks
in light. Long had its silence
silenced me. I choose to love this table
where I lie, the instruments that tell me
what I am made of. I am made
of things I love: the onlookers
peering over, trying to find some
what of them, maybe a gem or pencil
they once held. Maybe a vein
like their veins. Or their sleep.
I choose to love our auspices
because they brought us here, to love
disobedience because it shows the freedom
to love or not love. Or value. I choose
to value. I choose to love
as asylum from that which presses me
to hate. This body, which is not
a body. This representation, which is all
there is. I have a choice in the matter.
To touch you, I choose my hands.

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Copyright © 2020 Christopher Kondrich All rights reserved
from Valuing
University of Georgia Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission