A Poem by Eugenia Leigh: 'I Was Wrong About So Much' - The Atlantic

A poem for Sunday

About my brain, its wires glitching like a jellyfish sprite flashing its apple-red tentacles above my countless thunderclouds. About your eyes, not a savior’s eyes but brown as blood. I was wrong about the God I warped into a weapon, a garrison. Wrong about love, too. I thought love was my mother’s soprano tessitura screaming. I thought love was a violence. Verdi’s requiem, Dies Irae . You thought love was love. New-millennium emo. February flooding the school below the palms wringing their palms like willows the morning after you rinsed gas-station zin from my hair. I’m sorry I chased you for

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