#jade collection

he shapes destiny with his hands

stubborn and beautiful

i wish there was a way to convey

i think he could coax flowers to bloom

in the dead of winter

if only he would speak

that he could soothe an ocean

with the stories he tells

and turn flames into a hearth

with his patience

i want to tell him he makes rebellion a gentle thing

that i’ve never seen someone hold steady

never seen someone

curl roots around concrete and grow despite

i see centuries in him

the ones before him

and i witness the divinity of humanity in a way i never have

he carves fate with his hands and his brows furrow

i know it can’t be easy

he never said it was

but still, he sculpts his own path

and i love him.

there’s nothing to talk about

and we’re in the sun

when we’re in the dark

and you paint pictures with your words

i love you when

god doesn’t touch us

and we’re getting old

when you’re running from me

and i pretend to be a poet

i love you when

you touch me

when i’m crying and you love me

running and chasing

chasing and running

i love you when

we draw circles

when i think of them as rings

so we become something beautiful

and nothing like those trapped bodies

you broke it

and now my bones are growing wrong

youre not my splint

nor the crack in my ivory

but i’m rebuilding it all around you

and the form is shit

can’t walk like i used too

can’t talk like we did

staying still doesn’t keep it from splitting down

doesn’t keep the swell from swelling

you broke it

and they have to cut me open now

they have to take you out

and i have to do it alone now

i’m growing all wrong

like the constellations hadn’t started their descent

and the moon wasn’t moving farther from the earth

we talked soft like candle light

like the lull between sleep and open eyes

bursting with life like the transition

from april

to may

and there’s this dread

like when the rainbow fades

and the storm stops

when the snow melts

leaving only a memory of beautiful things

it was never perfect.

never whole.

but I held it till it threaded my bones

my embroidered heart

and

that little red string

tangled up and

to this one

i don’t know the metaphors

i don’t have the gift of writing

when im held sweetly

when there is nothing to destroy

but please,

let’s just stay in this morning

where you love me

i’d rather be happy

version)

you don’t understand,

when the tide gets low

i have to move on

i have to go

that static is how they kill you

i’ve got a nose for blood, and the scars to show

i won’t stand still

i have to go

i’ve never made a widower before now

never seen pleading eyes that weren’t mine

never been near a love pure enough to understand how

it could do anything more than confine

but you’ll always have little pieces of me

you’ll have many memories to know

I’m sorry, i still can’t stop here

i have to go

eat or be eaten

kill or be killed

you know how this story must flow

someone always has to leave first, don’t they?

so you can stay right there, love.

but me?

baby, my denim is starched too stiff

and this rain won’t stop pouring

i know you hate how the cicadas go on all night

hollerin out the songs we can’t sing

honey, the mosquitos are out again

you hate how i joke, i wish i could taste you like that

the blue gets so heavy the clouds go fat and hang low

i pretend im taking drags of them out on the porch

and darling. i know.

the heat

like God swallowed us whole and we sit, unafraid, on his tounge

you hate being held by the humidity

always chasing that wind

i do get startled by the mud

but im stuck to this county like blades of grass on skin

you’re goin like you said you would

and.

when it storms

about his hair and his eyes

sometimes it’s constricting

and you feel every vein in your lungs

how your heart peers past your ribs

how your ribs are just bones

and you are just a body

and you can write as much as you want

and lay awake praying

you can say it to him.

over the phone and in little blue bubbles

but that doesn’t stop the charge

that does not halt the surrender

when you lay your head down

and expose your flesh

you ask for betrayal

you stop running just long enough to look back

and he’s got you and you’re bleeding everywhere

and it’s the end and

he’s either going to leave or stay

you don’t get to know

you

don’t get to choose

it’s violence

it’s war

it’s roulette

and he looks so lovely loading the bullets

of course

you’re dancing

your hands are up

he could kill me, you think