10-Line Tuesday

January 14, 2014

in absentia

Forgive, today, your shortened temper, your discontent, the shaky
ends of your patience. Dismiss the invectives you rake against
your too-thin skin. Ignore the plummet of your faith, the rise of your anxiety,
the see-saw of your goodwill. Discharge the sergeant of your guilt, the devil
of your disappointment. Raze the monument of lists you failed to complete
and the award for kindness you wrested from your own hands. Allow, for once,
a recess from harmony, a caesura from grace. Go missing from your own party,
and walk lone circles in the forest long after the light fades west. There are days 
when the best you can do is show up in absentia, when ghosts are your allies,
when you tuck into the bed of your own disappearance, knowing you are still safe.