Overused

It’s the pendulum,
swinging one way
and returns again

Back and forth
gravity keeps its
repeating patterns
oscillating between
doubt and knowing

Kinetic to potential
and back again
until gravity wins

I’m the one receiving
the force
I’m the one asking
for change
and staying the same

Tensions
decide how long
this period
will last.

Swing me,
I want to say.

Do what you
must and do it
until the stillness
feels so empty
I have to
do it again.

Is the metaphor
correct?

Maybe it’s me at the ends
and not in the middle

Maybe I’m both.

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.

D minor

There are only so many 
chords and notes

I haven’t learned them
all and I’m not sure if -

Are these enough?

I know rhythms that
we've created
in innocent
moments

then there are the ones
he, of course,
added to
and spontaneously -

it's fluid and changing
and the lyrics do not
fit or seem to end -

Falter.
I’m no braver today
than yesterday.

I want to add to it
but what I have in front
of me can only take me
so far.

You see,
I wrote you a song.

I play it,
wondering
the ways you would
respond

Would you make it your own?

Would you want it to change?

The song starts in minor
the sound of its harmony
fades
into uncertainty.

What would you say
if I asked you to
finish it,
together?

I know the answer.

That’s not even the
right question.

I’m really asking -

Do you hear it in the
same ways
I do?

So far from the keys,
I don’t have the
ability
to write its end.

It’s there, though,
in chords and
notes that only
you know.

it flows, you see,
for you, alone.








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.

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?

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.

Rising

Eye contact
the intimacy involved
in a gaze
that does not look away
even when my own
breaks
from the vulnerability of it.

Falling for him isn't
falling at all.
It's a form of rising
into something
greater than myself.

Rising into
a choice
of selecting
healthy thoughts
to believe
over maladaptive
pervasive
patterns of painful ones.

My body opens for him
and not simply to please
but to be pleasured in return.

He told me in some ways
it feels like I'm
a part of him.

He is steady
secure
he is calming.

I like the idea
of my own self
being a part
of him.
And he of my own.

Falling for him
isn't falling at all.
I don't feel a need
to be caught.
I feel the impulse
to rise.

the moon meets the sun

i've tasted 
fire and ice

neither
fully satisfied.

i taste you

a combination
of heat
and cold

of floral
and earth

and i want it
again
and again.

You are a balance
an in between
i didn't know
i could experience.

I waited for the moonrise
and you showed me worth
in holding out
for the sun.

Changing of the guards

I pour a glass of wine
light a candle
my work clothes fall to the floor.
I attempt comfort.

It isn't clear yet,
(to me)
how to write in the calm
in the peace.

(what is this soundlessness)

I eat an entire bowl
of popcorn
I watch the sun recede.
I search for words.

It's 11:00 now.
It was so quiet
I almost missed
the
change.

My hands are clammy
my body overheated.
I am sweating.
Is it muggy in here?

(am I searching for a problem)

Shift change.
The new guards
fresh pairs of eyes
I am angry
I ever let the others past.

I look out the doors
its dark
I still have not
put into words
the feeling
of content
awareness.

(hope feels irrelevant)

I'm going to write
a poem about you.

It won't be a poem
of longing
or molding
or pain.

It will be a piece
about you.
And of what is.

My glass
sits half
empty.
The candle
dances.

I thank the changing
of the guards.

(writing of you
makes you real)