Reconciliation

Oblivious of having
Teased the porcupine

To bristle

Baited you to

Throw your quills
I’m taken by surprise

Left mute,
Making myself small,
Fearing I will

Make things worse

With equal speed the flare subsides, leaving
What?
Peace? Reunion? Grace?
Or just a blank page in this version of the past
Redacted by authority

As if it never happened

Nothing to regret, explain
Convenient
But far from reassuring
Not knowing what I did to spring the trap

I worry that I’ll be ensnared again

Remember what they say:
Those who obliterate the past are doomed to re-enact it
I’d rather study, understand, and write a better future

co-author needed—perhaps you will apply…