You Stopped Loving Yourself

You stopped loving yourself.
Was it at breakfast, or when you were five?
Who knows when?

Today is not for when.

Dust off the box and unwrap it.
Let the shining ribbon fall away.
Remove the tape at the seams, carefully,
or rip the paper to shreds.
Peer inside and don't flinch away.

Start with the self that tried to
murder your living. Love that one.
Listen to the self that kept you from
your dreams. Remember to hear the words,
and nod, and refrain from giving advice.
Go on a long walk in the forest together,
you and yourself.
Feel the cool dew on your faces.
Share a knowing look.

Whenever you're ready,
take yourself on extravagant picnics
with pickles and edible flowers.
Watch the sunset to the full on,
black, night sky.

Date a while. No need to rush.
Only when the time is right, move in together.
You'll tie the knot. You'll walk on the beach,
holding hands, saying nothing. When you
disagree, cradle the argument like a newborn
in your arms. Stroke its face and coo.
And the two of you, let your make up be sweet,
and long.