Various and Sundry Poetry

no one could possibly

sometimes, i am such a terrible excuse for a wall,
scavenging the grounds of an argument,
finding myself on the verge of climactic ruin,
some broiling trouble underneath
and rising up like some spiny thing,
drawing back my quiver of arrows,
ready for the battle that would fissure us
into jagged, babbling continents.

then, tilting on hind legs, i realize
i have neither language nor grace
to keep myself upright.

and i give you a look that says stay away,
a look that says i'm out of here, done,
a look that tells you i'm crawling back
into my tiny, naked shell, where no one but me
could possibly find comfort.

buoyant, intractable as an otter,
you swim to the very lip
of this volcano, turn belly up,
toward the fullest measure of heat, and say,
no.
i'm coming with you.