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.