This is not my work to do to heal or understand you
Tag: free-verse
I
I was that woman walking home tonight on the cold and crowded street arms so full of flowers you could not see the twinkling lights of my tears
You
I love the way you walk right across the room and introduce yourself to me You are a man on a mission I, your aim Every day you beam that bright smile at me and for a dozen breaths here we are, two We see each other and say: Oh, it's you Yes, it's you.
Signs and Wonders
I have asked for signs only to dismiss them Why orchestrate these tiny wonders to light my way when I excuse each one as a figment of my imagination? But that morning you died your green vase jumped from its perch smashed dancing bright coins across the floor and I was assured of the everlasting the ineffable
Caution
Caution, Falling into Water is what the sign says Now I see her free from throwing herself to the wind falling back and back and back into expanses, clear and deep
Notes
I could use a break from this relationship we're not having It's not you; it's me See, I just need a little rest from the wide expanses of time between our meetings and the ways your foot is careful not to touch mine under the table Oh, and the love notes all those love notes you haven't been writing Sometimes people just grow together it can't be helped
Hungry
I am so hungry tonight for you, and even not you hungry enough that I might accept even the sparest of offers I will take myself home Better to wait for the true feast even though I know not when, or where, or who
Ready
I might finally be ready to stop talking about my mother her flaws and failings my unmet needs the ways her absence shaped my presence and each carefully chosen word
Two Weeks
What would you do if you knew the great love of your life was coming? Not in the theoretical the imagined but coming like a real date on the calendar the tickets you booked the final exam What if you knew with such certainty that you put your house in order changed the sheets stocked the pantry set out those little soaps? If you knew this great love was coming what would you do?
Cold
Here I am warm but out there I am cold without her he said broken heart and halting English at my little window He signed, I stamped in blue ink each of us batting back tears Does this make her death real or any more bearable? Would that I could send a small glowing coal to warm him on his way
This Verse 