if his love danced in romantic tones and heartfelt song he has no language no words to describe beyond survival and necessity the love he holds in his worn and worried heart - I've had to sense it uncover it It had to be felt. I found meaning outside of the literal interpretations of abrupt speech and long silences. There were no words used wastefully, in spurts of emotional wind he uses no breath excessively. Perhaps romance is for those who have time. He speaks of his first and last love as if she was born of his heart Inseparable intolerable one and the same it is confluence without codependence. I had to learn love in actions in crinkled smiles in lasting impacts of fleeting, fragile emotion. Love existed because they made it so in ways permanent and necessary as the food and drink they offered freely. In his recliner next to her bed they sleep and will sleep because rest escapes him when she is not there.
Tag: love poem
Temporary
I so badly wanted it
to be you.
It was temporary.
We were, that is.
That made it
no less real.
I sure did
like to pretend,
though.
I held on
just in case
i was proven
wrong.
Hands
I left you in July, started again in August. I’ll spend September wondering how you are. You sat there holding my hands, “I don’t want to let you go,” You implored, as if you could not see that I no longer knew the hands in my own. I knew you no more or no less than I had the July before or the one before that. “I miss that special bond,” He said to me, a week after. What bond is silent, I wanted to ask. What bond exists only in two laptop screens and a tv monitor a late night cuddle, a quick- paced walk. Perhaps you did know me more than I knew you. Maybe I let you know me. The me that left and rose from your bedroom floor knows not of how or why two years from the day I asked for promises changed everything I thought I wanted.
Split
“Stay present,”
He advises.
Lovingly;
Selflessly
“I don’t want
you split between
two places.”
I want to laugh
You see,
you’ve been with
me, in the
mountains of
West Virginia.
Along the shores
of the
Great Lakes.
I saw you in
the mouth of
Mammoth Cave.
When the fireworks
reflected in
the D.C. waters.
I haven’t left
your hometown
in weeks.
“I’ll do my best,”
I assure him.
I’ve been trying
to untangle my
feet
wrestle them into
one place
For over a year.
Choice
Does it always
come to this?
fire and ice
Blue springs or
Rainy canals
the dancing flames
blue reflections
they revel in
their changing
views
Let the answer exist
in the ampersand.
Until then
I’ll find my
joy
in long walks
coffee after dinner
I’ll pick
mulberries
and
listen to his
singing
I’ll run, steady
until the answer
reveals itself.
You see -
Both
forces
have the capacity
to burn.
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.
Request
You, sitting there
in my room
full of fleeting
Autumn sunlight
I wanted nothing more
than permanence.
“How about we
spend the day
just laying here
looking at each other?”
You laughed
as if my question
was comical
As if it was
possible
for me to want
anything
beyond life
in your eyes.
Meditate
The doctor
asks me
if I meditate.
He tells me
it may help
alleviate
my anxiety
my (often) self-made
turmoil.
I smile.
“Sure,”
I say.
I meditate
in the mornings
when his
hand reaches
under
the covers
for my own.
I meditate
under the rays
of the rising sun
as I
listen to his sounds
of sleep.
I meditate
in the smell
of his skin
on the constellation
of his sun spots
in the wrinkles
around his mouth
as he smiles.
"Yes,"
I continue.
"I meditate every day."
I meditate
to my heart’s song
and the rhythm
it shares with his.
meanings
I see meaning
in the lovely
ways you
exist and
engage
in the world.
It's
in the way you
reminisce
about our first kiss
and the ramen noodle date
and the flirting that
grew to a
connection that
longed
for love.
It's
in the way you
sleep
on your stomach
one hand left open
for my own.
It's
your loving
touches
under the table
while we’re out
with our friends.
You called me
robust.
You called me
strong.
It's
the way you
don’t make fun
you do not dismiss
you support
and you encourage.
“I never want to let you go.”
I hope your words
mean as much to you
as they do
me.
I hope these loving
ways
mean what I
long for them
to mean.
the perfect blend
He tastes like lavender
feels like peppermint oil
on my skin
he is a combination
of warmth
and cooling air.
I am afraid
I will ask for too much
require
too much
hunger
for too much
that he will
leave
knowing
my desire
was more than
he could fill.
The Restless Crescent 