After I tell you
how the sun made me sneeze
and the lilac wafted
languid over mist
riled by feathers
know these details
cloak
me
as
I kneel in the unmown grass
and weep
for the small hands
working scissors
to cut the shape of me
free from tenure
and tether
I have floated
my arms dangling useless
protection
in the general vicinity
of need
since then
after this
tell me a version
of a life
in which I matter

or at least tell me
that she smells the lilac

.