Prayer / The Space Between
by Kathryn Paul
Watch Kathryn read “Prayer” and “The Space Between”
Prayer
Let there be a break in the endless, let there be a crack
in the wall, space enough for slips of parchment, scraps
of love notes, shredded in supplication.
Let me not be afraid — let me stand. Let half of what I show the world
be true and only half of what I tell myself be false. Let oxygen be as easy
as adrenaline and let deliberate feel as natural as spontaneous.
Let something be anything like truth. Let impossible feel a step
closer than unthinkable but still a fathom away from ordinary
and let the unknowable remain so.
The Space Between
I alone created this,
alone in the space between
what I wanted and what
I could not have.
How many times have I disappeared
empty-handed, abandoning
books, dishes, afghans, and men, always
the men. Sometimes everything was fine
on the outside and sometimes nothing
was fine. We were not reading from the same
page, not even the same library,
though we had always started with one
single thought.
No matter.
I have left and I am best left
alone. I break things and also
people. They slip from my hands
like teacups, their fragments
not so easily mended.
I like this quiet. I like sitting alone. Still
I ache sometimes, when the laughter
of couples illuminates the debris
trailing in my wake.
Kathryn Paul lives in Albuquerque, New Mexico. She is a survivor of many things, including cancer and downsizing. Her poems have appeared in Ekphrasis; Hospital Drive; The Ekphrastic Review; Lunch Ticket; Stirring: A Literary Collection; Words Dance; The Fem; and Poets Unite! The LiTFUSE @10 Anthology.
