NINETEEN

Obsessed with finding my best self
I'm furiously trying on new costumes
still convinced that there's an outfit
or hairstyle that will make me recognizable
as a good person.
On new year's day
I make a serviceable small book of collages
and give it away to a complete stranger.
I'm unable to tell
who will be in my life forever.
At nineteen I give things away all the time.
There's this enormous estuary
between me and those I love
where long, lonely sunsets
paint their reflections on the surface
like a kaleidoscope or a soul
who's being reborn almost by the hour.