i've been telling everyone "i'm sorry"

i've been saying "i'm sorry"
since i was a grub in the garden. since i was
a girl in a blender. i say it over & again 
as if it's going to patch the mouth wound
over & make words unnecessary again. 
as if it's my name. 
sometimes when i say "i'm sorry"
it is a ritual of knots. of trying to undo
the first tangle between two of my tongues.
who taught you to speak? what well
did they go to wash their knuckles?
i cut down a tree & found it full of teeth. 
spit my blood into an alphabet. 
here is how you write you name
exactly how they want you to spell it.
like a step off a cliff. like a goodbye.
i wrap my apologies in banana leaves.
put them in a ghost boat towards 
the older planet. the one covered in roots. 
have you ever taken a wrong turn
& ended up home? have you ever
spoken an apology you did not mean
in order to get away? in order to not
be chewed on like chicken bones?
i have given all my sidewalks 
to boys. i have cut off a finger 
& fed it to a dog. when i say, "i'm sorry"
i usually mean, "let's agree 
to be dead together." an airplane 
piloted by a jellyfish. drive me home.
drive me home wordlessly.
here is the way i conjure a broken world.
tell me, what do you know
about mending. when i say,
"here is the fault line i am sewing"
then you know i really mean it.
i do not want to need a cipher
but there are crickets awake now
& they are speeding up time.