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: writing
Horizon
Should I leave us
on that shore
with the imperfect shells
under our hardened feet
your hope matching
the aquamarine of
the gentle waves
mine hollow,
hidden
like the sun below
the separation
of sky and sea
(we jumped to
see its final rays
below)
In letting you go
I fear losing
healthy and
consistent
experiences
of love, perceived
(this loss feels paralyzing)
but if we
keep
on that
shore
jumping to see the
sun's descent
If I hold us
in that water
with the steady waves
and unfiltered sun
Perhaps it won't
be a loss at all.
Maybe its
always been
a gain
I'm not there, yet
the finality of
the goodbye
I still hold on
to memories like
they're fallible
like they are
at risk of
slipping away
if I don't focus
hard enough
But soon I know
it's coming;
the sun is setting
behind its
horizon line
and this time
I won't jump
to watch it
fall.
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.
Royale (clarity)
you consistently took pictures of me and of us and I'd smile and you'd lean your head towards my own I look at the ones from the Cove and the summer before your eyes are the clearest blue I always thought they would reveal, open I thought they'd let me in Opaque we are together and not in every photograph and I held on waiting for the clear imagining the moment you'd love me enough The clarity was never in the blue of your eyes or in our tent on the Isle it was always here in my knowing that we were temporary fleeting it's why i worked tirelessly to resist it to make us permanent but this wasn't some challenge or journey of worth this was simply two people intertwined in timing and love you were satisfied, content and I couldn't handle the truth in the opaqueness the reality that was right in front of me
quiet
I like him best while he plays his strings kisses my neck existing quietly, together Is that fair when so much of his energy is loud and bold sometimes I think the quiet of the last two years changed me even when I resented it.
smothered
Up until that point I had seen no clearer skies or stars as abundant I remember you in images of the fire on the shore sounds of the dark waves, the blanket on the sand- I read my book instead of looking at you under those stars. And tonight across the blackest of clouds a lighting storm a cascade of lines and energy of matter and change You were both there and not there Just the same as under the Milky Way at the shores of the Great Lakes on the edge of the fire that we smothered with sand and water.
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.
Overflow
The universe
must laugh
with twisted
knowing
It should have come
as no surprise -
this was built
on bricks of pain
amongst fleeting moments
of Hope.
Existing always
was a desire -
A sort of
understanding
that I would
be here, grow here,
once I stood
on solid ground.
I held out my hands;
“I’m ready,”
I promised.
She smiles
visualizing a
story
I see it
in greys and blues
and know not
how it ends.
As I watch,
my arms become
so full I
lose my balance.
Faltering, I
look to the shore
and ask for guidance.
“You asked,”
She smiles.
“And so you received.”
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.
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.
The Restless Crescent 