You are not happy. You want nothing more than to be happy. You are willing, even, to think you are happy, and to tell everyone how happy you are, even if you are not happy. But doing so makes you sad, and it saddens those whom you tell. Thinking you are happy, you are not happy. You are sad. You are sad, until, one day, a miracle happens, and you suddenly understand that the sadness you feel is really your own unique form of happiness. Before, you just thought you were sad. Now you know you are sad. This knowledge, the beautiful intimacy of it, makes you happy. And you tell no one. There is no need. Instead, you smile, and your face breaks, and the people you meet do not know what to do. They smile too. And you love them, and they love you.
The Hurry-Up Side of Your Face
And there is the love
on the hurry-up side of your face,
in the scar and the stitch of the seam
of your grace.
Recently Banned Literature, July 3, 2015
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