what a shame
I had to awaken today
after the most exquisite dream
I could not tell where we were
just sensations, warm breezes
if I close my eyes now
I will not be at this desk
but rather in a sea of blankets
with you
and only the moon
to light our way
river of ink
trusting you
to take me away
keep me sane
hold my thoughts
you’re catching my tears
with the notes
making an ink stained mess
no matter
the thoughts look now
how they felt inside
there’s a river
moving swiftly
with my words
you won’t be able to avoid them all
but I’ll let you distract me
with your eyes
telling stories
outside my head
visiting yours
a new view
for me to see
I forget now
why I cried
when it’s all so terribly
wonderful
I was right
to trust in you
hunger
hungry for just a taste
knowing more would make me crumble
needing to nibble a bit from below
you can take it, give it
you have so much more
when I don’t have nearly enough
will we have this chance again
I’m thinking not
so rather than mourn
let’s celebrate
soar together
as high as we can go
so maybe a taste isn’t enough
I knew it wouldn’t be
I’m crumbling
on my knees
you make me hunger
missing you
missing you more than I thought I would
more than I should
taking time to wallow
is certainly dangerous
it’s not the obvious
the signs of life
the warmth of the pillow
the breath on my neck
the fingers grasping mine
no, it’s none of those
it’s the sweet quiet
after
it’s the look across the crowded room
speaking better than any words
it’s cleaning up after a meal
and making another mess
yes, it’s the signs of you
lurking in the corners
missing you and our time more than I knew I could
more than I should
holding you as sacred
in memory is certainly a danger
Softer
Sometimes we expose our softness
reveling in sensations
joyful, light, full of promise
and we get beaten to shit
hammered and cut and ruined
So we create a shell like an animal
doing everything to hold something
tender inside
while bruised like unwanted fruit
we become hard to all outside
letting peripheral hurts be deflected
If we’re lucky, something soft remains
letting in light and love
laughing in the face of anguish
pissing in the stream of tears
We write hard and talk hard
and maybe even live hard
but inside
we retain the softness
the precious that we entered with
we may take with us always
The Word Rummager 