I like the way she holds my arm when walking…

up high, under the shoulder,
firm grasp on muscle, feeling
the blood beat acoustically, in joy,
sensually sensing a thrumming
thrombosis messaging, this is a
full bodied animation, liquid life,
“strong to drink”
“strength to break
off pieces and keep,”
a supporting mutuel
pillar column post,
given, taken, entrapped,
enwrapped, ensnared,
and
enshrined, mighty fine
feeling
“indeed”
pieces to mine,
pieces of mine

her taking is acceptable
my taking reciprocal
for her needs fulfill,
I,
walk taller, straighter,
in fuller strides, and when
she stumbles in the obstacle
course of nyc crack-ed sidewalkslop,
her whoosh of breath expelled
when saved by the arm firmament,
goes unremarked, for this is my
purposed occupation and the
occlusion of our skin cells
in tight bandwidth is certification
that our love is so much more than
mere skin deep,
or as she so oft summarizes, life is,
“indeed,” or in deed.

olp

You can really hurt yourself
If you hold your breath too long,
Headaches and dulled vision,
Part way to passing out with enough
Determination,
Add water and depth and a swift rise,
The bends as bubbles of gas
Form in unhelpful places,
Or swam too deep too far
And barely making the surface
That suddenly seems so far
From my feebly flapping limbs,

I guess we have all held
Our breath across the years,
Waiting on some thing or someone
To finally come good,
Or arrive or even just to be,
Somehow or somewhere or somewhen,
Breath suspended,
Life on hold just waiting with
Inextinguishable hope
Of something good,
And precious,
Worth waiting for,

Well I know I have,
And I know I have been the one,
The thing and or the circumstance
That has caused breath to be held,
And to my shame not always
Was I worth it,
But now - actually it is me with bursting lungs,
And the pain is near unbearable,
Perhaps time to let out that air with
A loud and pain filled gush,
To turn and start the swim
To shore

Some dreams are never meant

To be

Drenches half music blues
Paints my eyes his drips of two's
Like a software of compliance
Superior-what's inside
Interior-Inferior-Exterior
  Calmness-Family-Bless

Providence--resilience  
Anxiety you can tell
  at a glance
In a state of anxiety  
Nature calls cleansing
rinse
A world of society

Sacredly*
               Tiredly
                           World
          Inconsistent
What is at state?
No greener pasture
Present the future

Craziness high anxiety fire
More jobs to hire
Paints- birthstone- sapphire
Picture memories
  to capture  
Anxiety like sanity
Paints wellness next to
       Godliness

Eyes weaken but your heart
      Glistens

I can’t wait
for the day
I
open up to her,
knowing
she will never
use my past
as
ammunition

Sure..

Stand there...      wait
Don't stand there...    breathe.
No..        
Wait..
don't breathe...    just feel

Nah.   Yeah..
Ya-sure...  breathe&feel

Or wait...   no..
Just-remain-silent-and-say-nothing..


Ah,  there it is...    Yasss.    Good girl.

Every bend of a mountain stream
Has an inlet somewhere,
A little warm corner where the
Currents churn slow
And soft
Across the water worn rocks.

And notice how the river's things
Quick darting fish and splintered
Sticks all come to rest
For a moment in the rhythm of this Gently swirling space
That gives freely of her embrace
Before everything goes drifting on and
On to where it is supposed to go
Waterways to the raging sea
And beyond.

And I am an inlet.

I do not know how to turn cold and
Resist each time
Love comes close.
No, I reach out to gather and to hold.

But yet, it is always only passing
Through and like the gentle bend of a Mountain river, I must let go.

So it is
Every time
I find myself alone.

Sitting by the banks of a
Rushing river
Listening to the whisper of the water That sounds like

Ghosts.