to begin when you don’t know what the deal is,
or if there’s a deal,
nobody’s saying it’s a deal,
or we have a deal,
I mean there are times when you think you’re agreeing to something that isn’t even on the table—
sometimes what you’re afraid of resembles something you need,
as when you’re holding onto what you’re afraid of.
What if you’re afraid not to?
When you don’t know what’s going to happen you think about all the things you don’t even know,
as if the deal is a passenger on the way somewhere,
or a gift given to you
and taken back,
it’s not the kind of completeness you don’t even need to pay attention to.
In a deal you have to give something up,
when it’s a deal
there are sacrifices on both sides,
although it’s not much of a deal if you don’t know what the terms are, or what you’re agreeing to,
even when you’re walking up the mountain with the child,
even when you’re standing in front of the table in the open field with corners curved like the top of a radiator,
it’s not a deal when you don’t even know what’s going to happen,
I mean the whole point of the deal is to eliminate the uncertainty that’s present in the absence of a deal.
Or is the uncertainty a candle you light when it’s too dark to see anything else?
You’re not even sure what you need to be afraid of,
or if you’re sorry because it’s not the deal you actually made,
or sorry because it isn’t a better deal,
there are times when you give something away even though you don’t expect it to be taken,
it’s only a gesture or performance,
putting it aside,
like any sacrifice you don’t need to make.