For Yuna Kim

And when she said softly,

that she was happy now

that it was over, this

when she had lost the gold,

and the bedlam around

her told her she was cheated,

I believed her, believed

her relief, her sense that

the weight of it all

was now gone, that the queen

unburdened of the stone

around her to tutor

her body through pain

and to carry the flame

of envy, anger, awe and fear

inside her, stoking it

for years and years

as a flame—that this was

over now, and all she felt

was relief, gladness, and peace—

when she said, I am happy,

it is over, I believed her.

And she, skateless,

mortal, grounded, she walked,

stuttering and ordinary,

away from the arena.