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An Ode to Parentheses

Writing letters to you, I
Lapse into parenthetical ramblings,
Thought interrupted by impatient thought.
I can’t help myself…
Parentheses fall like raindrops
Spring up like mushrooms,
Forming fairy rings that
Grasp my words by the ankle.

Parentheses flash me a sideways smile,
Smirking at private jokes.
They are cozy couches
Where my words can nap,
Graceful ballerina arms
Cradling my thoughts as they spin on tiptoe.
Parentheses hug my words and keep them safe.
They are the velvet curtains that hide the wizard within.
They are the ribbon and string with which
I bundle all the things
I secretly want to tell you the most.

You’d prefer me to travel
the well-lit highways
of conversation
but I’m irresistibly drawn
to bumpy backroads
that are dark and curvy.
My parentheses are the city limits
of one-horse towns
where anything can happen
and almost always does.
You get nervous,
lock your car door,
fumble for your map—
calculating how long it will take us
to get back on the freeway
Closing your eyes and waiting
for the hum of asphalt.

My parentheses startle you
with their unexpected intimacies—
Within their confines,
I am talking in my sleep,
slamming you up against a wall,
kissing you hard.
You are unprepared.
Imagine this pair of parentheses
are my arched eyebrows,
and look me in the eye at last.

On the days
when you are too sane
when you are too sober
And my parentheses jangle together
And rattle in your head,
Take them out,
Fold them into themselves like an accordion,
Put all my parentheses in the closet with the clothes you never wear
And close the door.
What is left is the letter you wanted—
Periods and commas framing such normal words,
All of them saying exactly what you expected.

But when your world turns colors again
And you’re ready to hear me speaking,
Open up the closet door
And you will find soft curves
And calliope music—
A sweet chaos
You could live in,
Filled with all the things you should know.