I want you to know I want you to know You’ll never escape me -- Alice Notley I had never been in love before. I was like a thin wheel tumbling downhill, unstoppable and shaky. I had to do something. You remember too much, you accused me much later, when things began to unravel. It’s almost sad when you think about it. All my life, I was rewarded only for my intellect and my willingness to sit still. This made me invisible and it is now my weapon. People like me who seem steadfast and selfless: we’re the adders in the switchgrass I am tired of being mysterious There is so much overcompensation You wanted in, so I let you in. When did my appetites ever preclude your search for pleasure? No, you begged me for this, demanded access to my kingdom of seriousness, greedy for the novelty of it, like some infantile thing only ever wanting to grasp me and express yourself. Never imaging that this would cost you anything. So I let you in. I let you use my body like a ladder to pull yourself out from the mire. Never imaging that this would cost you anything. But didn’t I try to tell you? I tried to warn you that I would get inside you and ruin you. Say love again, I dared you as I held your head underwater. After that, you kept me in a tank with your stonefish and my chapbooks. How easy to become a possession and you handled me so precisely, all eyes and teeth, just the way I like it. I had never been in love before, and I had to do something. Your eyes as bright as arctic water. Those demon Nordic lakes. I could drown in those eyes I told you. And here we are, standing at the bottom of the well. And I remember everything.