Archives for posts with tag: identity

The Re-inventor

I’m not going to kill you:
it’ll just feel that way.
You will grieve as though
saying your good-byes
to the world at large
as well as to each aspect
of whoever you thought
you were.

From the support beams
to the splinters and finishing
nails, I will dismantle you
until all that remains
is the ground upon which
was built so many façades.

And you will not recognize
yourself of course—
you will not realize that
all along, the constructs
of your identity were not built
on the dirt, but that you
were the dirt itself.

You were not what you created
and then discarded when it
became irrelevant. You were
what was buried beneath
all of that rubble. And rubble
is all it ever was.

Unburdened, you will hereafter
be a willing paradox, both
unremarkable and special
at the same time.

Claire Juno, © 2013



We are on the skin of a sphere,
and we are everywhere,
but we cannot jump the chasm
that separates us from other selves
and possibilities.

We build a bridge doused with tears
and run across before it burns up
with our mortal steps.

We stack our worlds on top of worlds,
our clothes press our dimensions
together, weighing our hearts
with the sense of something
just outside our perimeter.

Tempting us, calling us
to put our energies in concert
and tunnel our way through
to something new and familiar—
a second skin, a second self—
send out the canaries first
and follow their song.

Claire Juno, © 2012

…for my father