I shower off the day reach for the lavender lotion I take vitamins floss I choose the green silk pajamas I open myself to 29
loves
and in the end
or the beginning
which ever end
you start to
untangle or
string together
it's in loving them
both
that will
restore
or
renew
which ever
frame you
choose
it’ll be the
same picture
It’s not one
or the other
I keep trying to
picture either
course
and they begin
with loose ends
and finish
in tight knots
I’d rather hold
both
if they let me.
doubt
I know she came before that summer and the beach the balcony plants the orange tree I understand you said you’ve moved on I’m wondering if moving on for you means holding her space while I hold out my heart wondering if you’ll take it while giving your own to her.
Full
Kisses fall to my forehead to the crevice of my neck. "What are you doing?" I ask, laughing, holding his face between my hands. "I don't want you to run out." He kisses my forehead, again. "Then I need 10 more." He takes my face in his hands. "There," he responds, looking satisfied. "I gave you 12."
I wonder about the people the ones who slip off their coat and place it on the seat or above in the train's compartment I wonder about the ones who keep their coats on the ones who haven't yet settled in the ones who are ready to leave I think there's a real difference between the two.
Edges
This time I’m on the edge of something instead of someone.
Distancing
sometimes all i can see are the ways and the moments you keep me away
Polarities
I often find that with gratitude I experience the overwhelming belief that I am undeserving and the two can seem contradictory opposite ends both feel reasonable and irrational at once
They say things change
I suppose it's true that connections and friendships wax and wane that falling in love and career pursuits take energy and priority Still I wonder or maybe regret. the appraisal of life's needs and obligations and my own wants it's the balance I have not yet learned
Appetizer
"Can we table this conversation?"
He asks.
Two glasses of red wine
rest between us.
He plays with the stem
with his stable hand.
I do not respond.
I know he cannot
answer what
I want answered.
I look at him,
overcome with
a sorrow
that the blue of his eyes
does not calm.
"This is the first serious
relationship
I've experienced."
He continues,
"I do not want
my life to feel
settled yet."
As I watch his
lips move
I hear
a different narrative
an unsaid message.
He takes a bite
of the appetizer
in front of us.
It's come before
we've ordered
the main course.
I watch as he
enjoys its taste.
He takes another bite.
"What should we order next?"
He asks, excitedly.
Next?
I want to ask.
Isn't this enough?
