The day I die. Where do you want to start? What would you like to look at first? I get up, I have sleep in my eye. I make a bad pot of coffee, the water hisses over onto the element, spits at me. I can’t get the water temperature right in the shower. SometimesContinue reading “I will remember what it means”
I so often asked you this. What do you remember? Even in the earliest making – Tell me what you remember. You answered once, and said I remember every day. You told me that you remembered every day. This sentence was the safest place you ever took me, a lighthouse gleam in the dark. TheContinue reading “Lighthouse”
it would just be hey… how are you? and maybe I still think of you (from time to time) something like that just hey … tapped out by fingers that know the pillow-fall of you and I (you and I) forgetting in this (b)reach just how hard we fell.
The first time somebody breaks your heart. Not just the pulls and strain that muscle endures – but this. A tear. Right through. (The first time you understand what people can really do, this history of holocausts and butchery they teach at school – you remember the foundation shake, the devastation. Nothing – or lifeContinue reading “Cleave”
“What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.” – TS Eliot, Four Quartets I’m a better person for knowing you. For this invitation into your world, and the people you loved. I know why they loved youContinue reading “In every beginning an ending is written …”
It would seem I still dream of you. And wake, unsettled by this little unlocking. To find after-all that you are still there. Still here. I wonder if I’m there in your nights too.
There is no lover’s dictionary. No universal definition to the flutters and thuds of the human heart. Love exists in the language of private metaphor, in the image sought through fingers reaching, through eyes slow-closed and teeth on lip. See, I could fill rooms and mouths to understand just what it was you did toContinue reading “Love?”
The Other You ask about her once. With your head on his chest so he cannot see the way you squeeze your eyes shut in a kind of terror as you wait for his reply. You feel a twitch in his muscle as you extend this invitation. She has not yet entered this other world. This otherContinue reading “The Other (revisited)”
Forgiveness. It always comes back to this. The desire for it, and the struggle against it. If I forgive, will I also forget? Is that the greatest fear when it comes to letting go of the anger we hold for those who have done wrong by us? If I forgive you Ben, for the casualContinue reading “Grace”