I was afraid of strangers
When I was young,
I looked before jumping
across puddles
or into relationships.
I rarely spoke
for fear of the flood.
I learned to love
those whose eyes loved me
with the bliss of drowning
and now
it is nothing
to slip on moist words—
my legs collapse underneath me
and on my knees
in this rippling pool,
I smile at you.
[Originally published in ,Jittering Microscope #3, 1991, this poem also appears in my first novel, Pieces of Home.]