Maybe this is a moment
where poetry fails
to communicate
the extent to which
you matter.
But I want to
at least try
and convince you of
the possibilities
that are just beyond
the horizon.
The birds will tell you
up there in the sky
what they have seen.
The welling up
Eyes become portals
Of wordless emotion
This is all
So beautiful
The only right thing
Right now
Is to cry
As warm
Sticky caramel
Sunlight
Ravishes the
Sexy green
Of summer leaves
Red haze through
I’m not always sure what to do
with my anger.
When the divide between us
is so deep and wide
it feels as if we occupy
completely separate Earths.
But we do not.
We are both here.
Closed system.
Not escaping each other
any time soon.
And I know that we are
I suppose I have
always loved
watching the rain through
big picture windows
for there is
a preciousness
to being here human,
feeble,
Woman.
If outside, uncovered
I would be
far too overcome
I dreamt I was
a collapsed
house
entire parts of me
caved in
scattered as rubble
and reeking
of rain-soaked ruin
peering out through
the old
and weatherworn floorboards
