About Jennifer Clarvoe: Jennifer S. Clarvoe is an American poet and English professor at Kenyon College. She has published two books of poetry, Invisible Tender and Counter-Amores. She won the Kate Tufts Discovery Award in 2001.
Certainly not the way someone will have told you the same thing yesterday, made you feel alternately - simultaneously - angry and guilty, guilty because complicit because flattered, therefore unfairly angry.
We cannot carve or forcibly preserve or cultivate belief. If it will grow, it grows as we do - mostly after we have fallen
One probably hears about it. One, wire, recognizes. One holds her bones up next to each other. One insists, grinding the clutch. One would powder and powder. One would ask out of the back of the throat. One refuses. One is so sad. One is helpful all ...
Do you know how, sometimes, when you first wake up, your pulse is so thorough, so slow, that you, and the one who is with you, and the room, and the opening light all seem to swell and subside and swell inside your heart?
And in the sin of wanting always to be right, the punishment is knowing it isn't possible.
She isn't here, but around here, in a deep rain disappearing.
