almost
new poem
I believed
the way children believe in summers that never end,
the way hands believe in holding
that our yeses would stay yeses.
You always said it
one hundred times back.
I believed because my heart is fluent in hope.
It knows how to make meaning
out of any
almost.
But now I know
my heart was building
a home
where it was the only one living.
I didn’t know this then.
Not knowing was kinder.
But now that I do, it’s true.
people are better at pretending
than keeping their promises.
But maybe the deepest heartbreak
wasn’t losing you.
It was learning
I made something human
carry something divine.
Shawna Beckmann