The Room Below

I never felt the ceiling move I never heard the rafters groan I only had the weather here The small dark room I called my own A mark on paper, half-remembered A door I’d opened once before A shape returning through the static A footfall finding floor I did not feel the lightning choose me I did not feel the crown descend Just old mistakes in better order And one thought touching the next Then someone stopped Halfway through speaking Like something colder crossed the room And I looked up Too late to hide it And saw what I had done to you I don’t feel tall From inside the bones I don’t hear thunder Under my skin You saw a leap I felt the floor continue You saw the height I only walked in And somewhere there’s A room above me Where I’d lose My clever name I don’t feel tall From inside the bones I only know You looked away They say it like a kind of blessing They say it like a debt I owe As if the hand that found the pattern Was the hand that made it so I’d rather be the work than lottery Rather be the bruise than prize Rather count the years of weather Than the accident of skies But work won’t wash the blood from fortune And chance won’t carry all the blame There is no clean accounting For the engine and the flame So I learned to speak With smaller gestures To leave some rooms without a mark To fold the map Before the border Made somebody feel the dark I don’t feel tall From inside the bones I don’t hear thunder Under my skin You saw a leap I felt the floor continue You saw the height I only walked in And somewhere there’s A room above me Where I’d lose My clever name I don’t feel tall From inside the bones I only know You looked away There are stairs I cannot picture There are doors I cannot read There are minds that make my weather Look like rain inside a seed If I stood in their lower hallway With my mouth gone dry and small Would I call it grace or violence When I couldn’t see the wall? Would I smile and say “remarkable” While the room forgot my name? Would I bless the thing that humbled me Or hate the hidden frame? I only knew I’d crossed the line When your eyes went quiet I only knew I’d crossed the line When your eyes went quiet No trumpet No ladder No fire in the vein Just a silence Arriving With somebody else’s shame I don’t feel tall From inside the bones I don’t hear thunder Under my skin You saw a leap I felt the floor continue You saw the height I only walked in And somewhere there’s A room above me Where I’d lose My clever name I don’t feel tall From inside the bones I only know You looked away So leave me the work Not the altar Leave me the hours Not the sign I am not the room above you I am only inside mine I am not the room above you I am only inside mine