For Us
by
by
Jennifer Kronovet
Hard to know—
always at an end—
the reason for
turning towards yet
another alley of him,
while—in the same
mood—I store
myself to have
a past, The Past.
What is a lie
for us is holding
the astounding
private. No more
waiting for feeling
to be knowing
like a blade
against the fruit.
Just the feeling
and then saying—
and then another
reason for turning.
