a homecoming

With my anger aside and my future in view, I spent many nights counting my options and feeling my way through the dark. Education won once more and I resolved to return to my life with a new and familiar start.

I am enrolled in a poetry class which I have come to delight in and find blood warming and electric. I read the words like a snake charmer and follow their movements. One catches my breath:

SOUS - ENTENDU by Anne Stevenson

Don't think

that I don't know
that as you talk to me
the hand of your mind
is inconspicuously
taking off my stocking,
moving in resourceful blindness
up along my thigh.

Don't think
that I don't know
that you know
everything I say
is a garment.