I Question and Read Myself

I keep reading myself.

Where is my care?
Where I am, I suppose.
Deep down in my heart
in part
and staring at the way
I move my wrist.


I keep staring at myself.
I'd like to move my wrist, unread
from an insecure mind
wrapped in language.

I question my love for you all.
I question my role as a husband.

I question
and read myself.