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.

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.

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.

Easy

It's a word 
and you're a man
of intentional speech
words
carefully crafted
thoughtfully delivered.

"I love you,"

eyes burrowed into
my own.

"I love you, too."

I am a woman
who uses words
emotionally
lightly.

With you
I take a breath
my mind slows
I seek intentionality.

I look to
the source of my heart's
peace
I reflect.
I decide what I've chosen.

I will love you
when you are free
while you are
choosing time
for yourself.

When you seek
space
When you need silence.

I won't simply
love you
when it’s easy.

I will love you
when there's
distance.
When I
lose sight of
us and only
see me.

I will
love you
when you’re
reading the news
or watching YouTube videos
or working too hard.

I chose to love you.
And I will love you
freely.

I will love you
at your
freest.