Teaching

You are the one I am writing about.
My mind and fingers
are pacing about the thought of you.
Although you are something different now,
I took hold of you once.

I told you spectacular lies
that unfastened your clothes
before you became so wise.

The new strength of your face,
marked with a knowing half-smile.
You have learned so much from me
about the appearence of certainty.

I taught you to take hold of yourself.
I taught your hand to be firm
and take hold of yourself.