Didn’t I

Somewhere in the rubble of what’s left of memory,
sleek pieces of your presence tried to coalesce
this afternoon: repair – revert to form from
utter evanescence – make you whole again.

But all that could arise that once aroused could not
assume more than a shoddy simulacrum
of your body and your essence and whatever else
it was that tied me to the pole – lashed me to the mast

like brash Odysseus so he would not jump in
to join the Sirens and their Song: give them his soul.
Ah, but I jumped in, didn’t I. The rope was loose,
and I’m a dope. I didn’t die. I wonder why.

.