And then I will have no big reasons to live here

my work can be done from any country
and now so can my studies

and when this year is done
perhaps you’ll think I would of left either way
but I would not of
I would of called this place home
because your were here

I have pushed my body passed  it’s limit
wobbled to the pavement swiftly
and appropriately landed on city concrete because by what else would I be cushioned or met by in an eastern metropolis denser than my flat, patchy L.A extending to the sea

I will not pucker up my lips and try to kiss you
I will deliver poetry over your tongue and ask you how it tastes
I will be what I am with my fragrance
eternally unrivaled as is yours, theirs and everyone’s else’s
our uniqueness solidified at birth

I did not find you broken nor off course
I found you whole
in pain perhaps but wholly please never forget that silent prayers follow you that they ooze and hide in the winds breeze never to be spoken
silence is their language

I am Jane loving Austen
Purring with her own happiness in there solidarity home

I am flower moving in the wind
feeling it’s conjures that life is indeed cyclical and you should sway to its wind

I know it was not his fault nor my fault
I know it was trauma bonding
painful inheritance of pasts resurfacing
triggering unconscious cycles

I am not angry
I am in love with my own becoming
and I can see his becoming
and think we chose well

Two different roads
my love on the other fading to nothing
alive only in the forever of yesterday

You sweat through the fury of a blazing love that gave too little and still wanted to call itself love