Amnesty

I dug myself out of a hole this week, down on my knees

past my own depth, scooping rocks and brittle bricks, sweaty shovels

until I hit pause:

you, calling me chaos, naming my beauty even while I wished it didn’t burn

while it fell out of my eyes, churning rivers into hurricanes (me)

pushing water over levees until I caved, the gorgeous ravages of age sneaking up on me slowly but suddenly

and you

at the top of the hill with your arms outstretched saying your sadness (my sadness) is not something to be solved, my love:

it’s a chaos