Page 162 of Wayfarers

or if you go at all.

Now I’m thinking about how prescient

Miss Mara’s prophecy was, that the eclipse

would be the portal to destiny, mine to be

broken and alone and limping my way

to the home of a woman who might not

want me either, if she’s even still

alive to want things.

And fear runs through me

like a fever.

But I know something that sounds

like the sort of thing a fortune

teller would tell you, but I’ve always

known somehow:

if my courage fails

me now, it will never survive

the hard, lonely nights to let me build

the life I yearn for.

This world will grind you up

if you’re not brave.

Maybe I’ll find my way

to my mamaw’s house.

Maybe I’ll have a home again

and a dog named Bilbo.

Maybe I’ll love another girl with Serious Eyebrows

for a whole week, then a month, then a year.

Maybe next time I won’t hurt her and drive

her away with the secret shame

of my history. Maybe that’s the first

thing I’ll reveal about myself