59

A satin-sashed serenade
a foxtrot of forgiveness:
“you can do anything,
but
you can’t do everything.”
cue the world’s
most delicate fanfare

If I had as many arms as
I wished I did,
I’d be more extremity
than me.
My identity is not in
how much I continue to reach
but in my ability to pull back
when I’ve lost track.

Following each fork in the road
just to be sure I didn’t
miss anything
I ended up missing a lot:
invitations to a wine bottle, shared
cat-sitting a cat I don’t like
impromptu sushi nights
RSVP, respond later

I’ve discovered that the best part of sushi
is in the freshness of fish
not in the number of pieces
I can fit on my plate.

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