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@amangotreez
Eating those I can, before the bruises appear.
How quickly the season of apricots is over - a single night’s wind is enough. I kneel on the ground, lifting one, then the next. Eating those I can, before the bruises appear.
- Jane Hirshfield, “Speed and Perfection” in Given Sugar, Given Salt: Poems (Published April 2nd 2002 by Harper Perennial, first published 2001)
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you
gave me a whisper and i clung to it. let it fill me up and bleed into my bones like ink blots and moonshine. and i'll drink it forever... let it lull me and make me with shaking bones and rushing river veins. let me stand with two feet planted and swaying. can't live without you now. all my flowers are grown for you now.
this is the first year that i have nothing on my birthday or Christmas wishlist. it’s a new feeling and i am soaking in it like a baby’s first bath.
gossamer
two months and it’s still sinking. the crooked smile and cold smoke. you were so far away, then. couldn’t even see you, if i’m really honest. never felt you. never dreamt you. but you surprised me with a look and i slipped. can’t tell you what it does to me. can’t let this go so easily. but you should let me.
what broken bodies we have. all frayed nerves and fragile hearts. and maybe you were six feet under, just waiting for someone to see.
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Love me Ravishing Hold me Falling Praying Rosary
no one ever said anything worthwhile. just spitting out words like seeds, planting angry gardens. silly dandelions.
quietly
I forget that you’re gone.
.all the time.
I never let that wave wash over back then and now it’s built itself up to shining. one breath to crash and break me. watch it happen so quietly.
every day.
lousy
the night is loud and lousy with old dreams. but you’re the softest place I know. and weren’t we wild? when I let you kiss my lips and feel all my demons. took off my skin to let your light in.
said you looked nice. couldn’t help myself...
and you stopped time. what magic.
a-flutter
such a funny thing, this flutter. soon, we’ll be sitting in the dark, raw nerves. soon, we’ll forget what it was that kept us quiet. soon, we’ll be falling into something like love. and soon, we’ll forget about that, too. the average lifespan of a monarch butterfly is 2 to 6 weeks. and maybe it’s the same for us, sometimes.
too many pillows, I think. it’s what you said when I fell. and I could feel it on my sleeve, the torn souchers. sent a rush like Christmas morning and summer rain. but I could never tell you. always loved the sound of you. the easy feel of you.
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an affliction
i take it back. i take it all back. you hold too much of me now.
and i am so in love with the beginnings of things...
worth it
what do you use to pay for your life? little crumbs from your pockets full of dreams? do you remember? can you count the times you forgot to check before the storm washed you down and rolled you out to one more brand new, like paper boats taped up and cast off with love letters and wild hopes
Poetry: “Among our vestigial traits: coccyx, wisdom tooth, death. / Every day, piecemeal evolution. Soon I will be pure wonder.”
My friends’ friends are excellent people and stunning poets. “It takes exactly one lifetime to adjust to the darkness.”
leaving
she knew the moment. could see it from years away. carried the damp weight of it and held it close, like Atlas.
draw me
follow the notes, little wires tugging, and i love the lines you use. i love your lines. draw me to you. tug and break me.
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you have been the same in my eyes, ever since i met you.
how dangerous.
Got diamonds in the heart and a mouth full of coals. Sweet verses turned sour in my soul.
