again I vow not to think

Distance was the house from which I welcomed you. 

Time, time was the house, and to welcome you 

I strung garlands of eggshells and rubies. 

Thirsty, I welcomed you, you the salt 

sucked from the tips of braids 

after running from the ocean of someone else's childhood. 

I turned the skeleton key. I welcomed you from the narthex 

of invisible churches. 

 

There at the marble bar at the Folies Bergère 

I welcomed you in the mirror, 

waving my chartreuse tumbler, 

wearing my velvet choker, wafting my nocturnal perfume. 

 

On the subway of extranjeros 

I patted the empty seat beside me. 

 

I foraged for you in welcome. Like a bottlenose dolphin, 

I tore sponge from the sea floor 

covered my beautiful nose with it and dug between barnacled rocks. 

Yes I welcomed you with my efficient body. 

 

I welcomed you from the house of memory, 

where I am lonely. 

 

Again I vow not to think about whether you arrived, 

or in what state. 

 

Just that I was there, welcoming 

 

with a singed collar, with a bee balmed in amber, 

with an oyster cracker, a seashell full of champagne. 

 

I welcomed you from a house of needles. 

I welcomed you from the fists of babies. 

Standing on the doormat 

of my black shadow, 

with a beginner's brow, with a hoop of angels, 

with the ache of unlit candles, 

I welcomed you.

[Beth Ann Fennelly {1971- } 'The Welcoming', from Unmentionables]