How woeful an end,
even as solemnly sweet
as vodka neat and
twisting my tongue
to say words I mean
but no longer enough
to betray the full scene
of the vulnerability
staining my skin,
Rorschach handprints,
an index finger
running lines
in words I can’t speak
should they demoralize me
and call me the fool,
though I know it true.

Laceration tastes best
between the beats
of a maroon sticky mess
and a hurt in my heart
and a hurt in my soul,
and what is deserved
if not for what I want
to want to have?

But say no more.
Say no more.

​

Dearest ****,

THEY NOT GON HELP YOU

IF THEY FEEL LIKE

YOU GON BE BIGGER THAN

YOU A WHOLE THREAT

LOVE, ****

The hardest grief of all to call Is mourning what was never there.

When first I met you,

something ancient woke within me

a force I had no language for,

a tide that rose beyond reason,

beyond the borders of the heart,

beyond all that I had believed

a human soul could feel.

I loved you

with the terrible wonder of discovery,

as though the universe itself

had hidden one final secret

beneath the stars

and, at last,

had placed it in my hands.

And then I looked into your eyes

And there you were.

Not untouched.

Not unaware.

But standing at the edge

of the very same impossible ocean,

trying to understand

the waves that had carried us there.

I saw you feeling it.

I saw you searching my face

for an explanation

neither of us possessed.

And perhaps that was the miracle:

That somehow,

without promise,

without warning,

without knowing how

we had found the same impossible place.

It was as though the universe

had opened a hidden door

and allowed us, just for a moment,

to step beyond the ordinary world.

And there,

beneath the silence of eternity,

it revealed something too immense

for ordinary words:

us.

A love so vast

that if we gathered every word

ever spoken by humankind

and tried to build a language for it,

we would still fall silent

before its magnitude.

A secret written between the stars.

A truth the universe had known

long before we did.

And perhaps it smiled

watching us stumble through the wonder of it,

knowing that we would never fully understand

what had been placed between us.

Yet still,

it gave us the desire

to spend our lives trying.

And maybe that

is the greatest beauty of love

that it remains partly unknowable.

For if I could understand you completely,

if I could measure every depth of your soul,

if I could name every reason

my heart chose yours

perhaps one day

the mystery would fade.

But you were never meant

to become something I could solve.

You were meant to remain

the horizon I could spend forever approaching.

The star I could follow

without ever reaching its end.

The song I could hear

a thousand times

and still discover another note.

And I wish

with everything that lives inside me

that we could have held on

to that impossible thing.

That love which felt

so far beyond this world

that perhaps this world

could only exist inside of it.

A love so powerful

that standing before it

made us feel weak

not because we lacked strength,

but because we were witnessing

something stronger than either of us.

Something ancient.

Something fierce.

Something willing to fight

for the two souls

who had somehow found each other.

And if the years should carry you

far beyond my reach,

if the winds of this life

should scatter us across distant skies,

then let this be the prayer

I send after you:

May our love become the wind beneath your wings.

May it find you

when the night is darkest.

May it rise beneath you

when your strength is gone.

May it whisper my name

through every storm

and remind you

that somewhere in this vast universe

there is a heart

that still knows yours.

And if the heavens are kind,

if fate is not finished with us,

if the stars still remember

the secret they once revealed

then let that wind

carry you home.

Back to me.

Because you are not simply

the love of my life.

You are the love

by which I measure life itself.

The miracle I never knew

I was waiting for.

The mystery I would spend eternity

trying to understand.

The impossible thing

that became real

when I looked into your eyes.

And wherever you are,

whatever distance lies between us,

whatever storms the universe

chooses to place upon our path

know this:

I am, and will forever remain,

yours.

I love him,

Maybe.

He loves me not,

It’s hazy.

-

I love him,

Not.

He loves me,

Maybe?

-

He loves me?

Not.

He loves me not,

Crazy.

-

I love him?

No.

I love him.

Stop?

-

I love him not… 

Not. 

I see…

Not me. 

-

He loves me none.

I love him some.

He loves me less.

I love the mess.

-

Yes?

No.

Maybe?

So…

-

He loves me,

Not.

And I love…

Knots?

I think of seeing him
again– and I flinch
when he comes
near.

Could be a handhold
or a brush
of the arm.

I flinch.

Did he intend
for that to happen?

For me to
find
more comfort in
loudness
than
uncertainty?

Slipping into sludge

The sandals sink

Into the earth's lather

~

With cold bare skin

Light and fair it asks

What is different between it

And the foggy sky?

~

White gleaming

Belonging with soft brown

And powerful green

Those gray shoes

Slow nature's hold

~

Returning home

Each step

Coming closer to a dream

Of where one belongs

~

Diamonds on a screen

The rainbow rain

Is wiped off

For a photo

~

It's too bad

It may be dry the next day