if you want to write well
then, when your dad beats you,
notice how beautiful his hands are

if you are lost in the forest,
stop to rest against the oldest
most gnarled tree and remember
how its bark feels against your face

when your lover breaks your heart
in a poorly lit bar, look at how
the orange light reflects off
the oiliness of her forehead

pay attention to the tone of both
your voices when you say your goodbyes

if your friend betrays you under
a hot sun, look toward the flowers
and listen to the buzzing of the bees
looking for nectar

when your dad dies, notice again
how beautiful his hands are
in the casket - pale, swollen, and folded
across his chest

touch them one last time

while they're in reach

i'm not trying to say notice the
details or anything as dumb
as that - it's all details - what
i'm saying is choose to
experience the
truly important

Moi, j'avais jamais rien dit. Rien

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