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The Accident
- University of Wisconsin Press
- Chapter
- Additional Information
The Accident You went away and wanted to do things, things that brought you to the edge of buildings, like this building with its pool and its five stories. It was a hotel, it was not yours to jump from. Still, you jumped from a balcony, thinking it was all right, you were all right. You were sailing in air, you were going to make it, and you made it— almost—on an alcoholic cloud. One leg landed in a haze of blue, the other on ground, which split you, then tipped you forward into water.Your friends, the ones who had gone first, shook the spray from their eyes.They had bought the drinks, and bade you drink them, found the stairs, and ascended. But what can be traced back to you? I hate people or else I love them, -19- like I love the little bones that were broken— the finger, the wrist, each inch a disobedience, splintered as ice. Silver bubbles rose and spun. Who fished you out, who dried you off? Who was around when you made up your mind? I thought I knew the life I wanted, the water rocking with waves you made, that muffled boom of the body. It was not there, then it was there, upsetting everything. -20- ...