"To be nobody-but-yourself, in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else, means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting."-E.E. Cummings
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Arido
you into being...
into becoming
a home.
I imagine you warm
(green and fertile)--
desolate cracked earth
overwhelmed by
(moist, beautiful)
rains and growth
and for once becoming
WHOLE
--no longer
(perforated, displaced)
turbulent.
--no longer
(spilling, splashing)
spewing your
contents...
no longer so scattered
as I am.
I imagine
what if would be like
if I could touch you --
if somehow I could wrap
my arms around you
(give you comfort)
nurse you to health--
I wish I could whisper
to you your importance
(your worth).
I wish you could (share
my dreams) open your
arms
instead of being
so
clammed up.
(There is no room at the inn.)
I wish you didn't feel so
EMPTY.
I wake in the night with the pains of your
(gaping, vacant)
desire--
I wish that I could calm your
labored sobbing
(your quaking, your thrashing).
I am so sorry for my neglect.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Tranquillità /Turbolenza
It’s the best night of sleep I’ll have for weeks until you come back again—if you come back again, when you come back again. Until then, I’ll snuggle closer into my bed just to fall asleep. I’ll align the pillows so that I can pretend that you will be there to brush the hair out of my face when I wake up again to face the day.
I’ve been working so hard to convince myself that living without you will be easier than living with you. I sort out the pros and cons of it all and think to myself “tomorrow I can do this all without him”; but the absence of your face makes the days even longer and I find myself distracted every minute you aren't here.
You are the sweet-silent-surrender of my day; I let guard down and lean into your arms and all of the world disappears around you.