Private Speech

My mother's dissipated in me, let's say, though it is untrue and lazy like a blue video on the shoulder of a midnight room in the red light looming, peeking through corners and stray headlights from the almost vacant highway, a trucker and my one true love, and the word you expect protects the unexpected like a healer or fate in a pleasant mood or the proven libido—I stepped into a ray of duty so wide it is a childhood. She leaped into a prayer so large it was a sacrifice. If I have outlasted my desire thus far, it is a practice / bringing me so near to my past, I am a myth. In the Latin myth means authoritative speech, the kind meant to silence women in the process of our transformations. We're allowed to announce only our victimhood and our motherhood, and the way they intertwine to make us petty and finite. But what if I said

He is flying blind and I am

right

behind him

Instead of the settled retrospect of how

--

As a child, I felt myself alone and I am still, because I know things and must hint at things which others apparently know nothing of and for the most part do not want to know.

--

And I keep catching up with my vision just as the vision changes. But I am flying high and he is right behind me.  It is important to have a secret. A man who has never experienced this has missed something important. And shame is finally excluded from the process of revival, an exclusion upon which everything depends