a birthday poem
i guess i’m not that
interested in
objective truth
the whole enterprise feels
cold
and scientific like
“hmm yes based off these
data we can prove
this conclusion”
objective truths don’t feel
useful in relation to
medical mysteries like
birth or death
they don’t help (really)
explain the
petite mort
or the inevitability of
a cold sunrise
it has occurred to me
that between what you say
you believe
and hold to be self-evident
and what i say
i believe
and perceive as similarly
self-evident
there’s a kind of
goldilocks truth
we should walk towards
and acknowledge
but – probably – let god handle
all the intimate knowing
don’t forget
when celebrating the
anniversary of the
day of your birth that —
you are loved and
you are held
regardless of whichever
subjective truths are
crashing over you
today