Gift

It’s a gift.
And by it
I mean you.

You talk to me
and all I hear
is poetry.

So thank you.

I want to save this
for when you
need it most.
So I can give it
to you as a gift.

And then when
I need it most
you can give it
back to me.

Until giving
and getting
feel exactly
the same.
~7/20/17

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Days

On the days
I feel
less than
beautiful
I try
to see myself
the way you do.

And I try
to hear what
you’d say if
you were here.

On the days
I feel
less than
beautiful
I remember
I’ve never been
a good judge
of my own
character.

And I try
to forget
the times
before
I had you
to set
me straight.
~7/17/17

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Lumbas

Possession.

There’s a spot
at the small
of my back.

The trigger.
The wheel.
The flashpoint.

Easily ignored
by some but
optimized by
so many.

Days later
he calls
to apologize
for his behavior.

But I just smile
remembering
how his hand
seemed to float
slowly in midair
only to come
rest on that spot.

As if he owned it
and always had.
~7/18/17
____
Un esprit ivre parle d’un cœur sobre.

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Maybe Someday Sooner

Maybe someday
sooner rather
than later
I’ll have my
act together
in the first place
instead of just
facing the shame
of my lack of
preparedness
head on.

I’m not ready.
Ever. I’m never
equipped to
handle any
little thing
thrown at me
but I am getting
better at the catch
and release of
my life.

I can hold you
and let you go.
I can come up
with an answer
to any question
I wasn’t expecting.
I’m learning how
to tell you no
when the answer
is really no and
not maybe or
someday
or soon.
~7/13/17

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Grownups

I’m old enough
to expect better

and

you’re old enough
to know better

and

until one of us
gives

or the other one
takes

I’m never
going to know

which one
you expect
from me.
~7/11/17
_____
I’m caught in a loop, that’s for certain. Actually, more of a vacuum. And in said vacuum, for lack of another option, I will always plunge headlong into the worst case scenario.

So, in other words, immuna die alone.

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