Originally posted 3/5/2011.
What do you say to your long-lost arm
when it comes crawling back?
You’d better start thinking of how
you will answer; look behind you —
here it comes,
one finger length at a time.
Do you demand to know where it went,
why it took so long to return? Or should you
ignore it, brazen it out,
turn and walk away,
its vacancy hanging
like a banner on your shoulder?
No, you owe it more than to break it like that,
seeing how it’s come so far seeking its former home.
You should use finesse to bluff the past
whenever it comes back demanding its place.
You at least should know better than to say,
“I’ve gotten used to living without you.
I have a better hold on things without you,”
even though it’s true.
Don’t be that cruel. Show it a little love.
At the least, lay a light kiss upon its open hand.
You have nothing to lose now
from offering it that moment of care, nothing
you could not easily surrender,
regain, and retain. That is, after all,
why you are now whole
in spite of having lost it in the first place.