if i could carve

sometimes the sadness comes on like a 50-foot tidal wave
all gulps and chokes and hiccups
of crushing water.
i trace my steps back,
i trace my steps back
and i arrive at the same spot
again and again.
there is no way to undo it,
there is no way to keep it still.

if i could carve out the pain
and send it asea,
if i could carve out the guilt in letters,
if i could carve out the sorrow in words,
if i could carve out the memory of us
and hide it somewhere safe,
if i could carve out my spirit
and clasp it around my neck in a locket,
if i could carve out my will
and bury it with our eight years...

if i could have carved out my feet
to keep from walking, i would have.