Turn The Light Off When You Go
My eyes are very green today
And they reminded me of you
The way they billow in like smoke
And lie about the truth
Truth is…
I’ve written just as many poems
In your absence
As I did when we first met
They were exciting then
Adventurous
Telling tales
Of hikes in snow
And resting there, by waterfalls
And all that I have written now
Is about the way time has shifted silently
In the days since you’ve been gone
How the aching in my hollow chest
Is working its way out
Through the surface of my skin
And today…
My eyes are just as green
As the path that I refused to travel down
On our way that day
To our swimming hole
That I’ll never get to swim
When really, they should be gray
Like the days have felt
Without the color seeping in
And my eyes smiling shut
In the blinding brilliance
Of your love
Off the Cuff
The men I’ve loved have allowed me
to rely on no one but myself.
You can bare your soul, you know
at the distance of an arm’s length.
It is possible to bask
in the warmth of an embrace, and yet
walk away feeling even more alone.
And yes, I’ve known connection
and heartache
and there are many who have glimpsed
the intricacies of this spirit.
(a vast kaleidoscope of pale purples,
flowing, constantly in motion)
And I too, having seen their own.
It is possible to dive into the pool of love
for a brisk swim
and struggle to stay above waves
that you, yourself, have made.
And it is also true that you can
drown there,
and when dragged out, revive,
still feeling refreshed from the water
left rolling off your skin.
(there is an incredible majesty
it the moment before you succumb,
like dusk has just begun to break)
Reminiscing of your brushes with death
while drying your skin
with towel swipes.
I know there are times
when I stare off into the distance
and it is hard to say whether I am recalling
love or loss.
The gut-wrenching kick of solace?
Or strolling down the short path
of memory lane, that I even dare revisit.
There are moments in the silence
when I can still feel the touch
of a ghostly fingertip
against my surface of my skin.
And I am forced to open my eyes to the darkness
despite my fear that
I’ll see something standing there
before me.
Finding myself then,
startled by the void instead.