That unshakeable feeling-
I've had it all day, where the world
moves before my eyes
rather than my eyes moving in the world.

I think that I've been missing
gone for a while, the former
versions of myself:
The one who took long walks at midnight
to feel alone in a bigger world
to be barefoot on pavement in a faraway land
The one who collected flowers and
discarded spoons
tied them together with a quote from a book
and a ribbon fallen from a cheerleader's hair
left these little bundles on doorsteps and ran away laughing
The one who never slept
as long as they thought she did
because the words kept flowing out of the page
or out of her hand
or into her mind, whichever
I need more words
I can't yet say enough.

Those selves, I miss them.
Thinking of them I walk down a forest path
break off this twig and that
barefoot again

I will always have lived
in an enchanted wood
held hummingbirds and butterflies
and cleaned in secret so they wouldn't know
who had been kind.
Even in my bright-lit world
remember me,
I beg myself