As a kid, I would count backwards
from ten and imagine at one,
patience and love agreed
to meet at a set time and place,
beneath the questions you
had never asked.
His voice in this room,
her eyes a closed book—
“I barely know you,” she says,
voice heavy with sleep.
“I don’t know,
no one truly knows,
who they are,” he sighs.
The glass bottle does
anything and everything,
always seeking.
Dawn turns to day —
it happens like this:
One day you meet someone,
and for some the answer is
“Yes, always yes! I cannot
deny you anything!
You — do you remember
our first day? The fog lifted
and all around us,
I saw a dream.
We said hello at half past one.
It was one of those nights
that you are not altogether
sure, really. I did not know —
perhaps I never loved enough.
As the earth began spinning
faster and faster, we floated.
“Be careful about giving your
heart too quickly,” I was told.
“Love a girl who writes.”
There is a tide that rolls away,
like time suspended —
the path from you extending.
For all the time I’ve known you,
in a sea of strangers,
you were the one —
A midnight scribble
stretching out from here to then,
You were faultless.
Do you see?
You may not know.
You are the moment before
the sun sinks into the horizon.
The timing is irrelevant when
two people are meant for each other.
It’s your love I once surrendered.
Do you remember
what you once said to me?
“When two souls fall in love,
there is nothing else
but the yearning—
sorrow tells stories.”
I wonder if there will be a morning
when you’ll wake up missing.
Do you know that feeling—
when it’s like you’ve lost something?
“I don’t know what to say,” he said.
“There are people I will never know—
I am somebody else’s story.”
—–
POETIC FORM: A Remixing Poem