Death made you a thief, love.
While in life you gave
everything, selflessly and endlessly, death
has made of you
a thief, stealing and taking-
back- all that you were

taking back everything you graced
to our world- your laughter
and angers, your happiness-

you take everything
I (never thought) was (yours)-
my sleep, my happiness
my heart.

Death made you a thief, love,
but even in death
even as a thief
you have my love.

A shining portal, shimmering
in tiny glints that enchant us. We
plunge in, emerge exilerated, dripping, free
having removed and placed aside
all the trappings of our daily lives, all
the tiny disguises we wear
daily, unthinking, all the walls we construct
to keep the world at bay. At this bay
we surrender, immerse, maybe secretly hoping
that the salt water will sting the eyes
watching you, so that you are not seen
fully, after you have removed your surreptitious armor.
Later, we will wear it again, dressing
in the clothes and glasses and jewelry
we have built our visible selves from, more comfortable
now that we are covered, protected.
But the vision of you uncovered, plainly yourself
will not leave me for a while-
it has seeped through my cracks
and is staying like those tiny grains of sand
I can never completely wash off.

Don't try to pin me down. Instead,
let me flutter gently around the twinkling lights
that look intriguing to me at the moment.
Don't try to catch me. Instead,
watch me keep my distance and try to understand
that I can still exist happily in the freedom of solitude.
Don't try to predict my changes. Instead,
know that even I cannot usually do so, and try,
if you so wish, to weather with me my changing seasons and summer storms.
Don't try to immitate me. Instead,
realize how beautiful you are as yourself and furthermore,
I am not something you should immitate, want to be.
Don't try to change me. Instead,
accept me as I am. Though your forced changes may indeed be better
for me, your acceptance will make me want to better myself.
Don't try to explain me. Instead,
internalize that some things are inexplicable
and that my reasons for being this are so much uglier than you see.
Don't try to justify me. Instead,
remember that even those who are hard to grasp
make mistakes, even horrible ones, and sometimes need someone not to forgive.
Don't try to destroy me. Instead,
listen to me when I warn that many have tried, purposefully
or otherwise, and I am not so fragile as I look. You will end up burnt.
Don't try to push me away forcefully. Instead,
ask me to go. I will understand, I promise
I only want distance to be a respectfully created space, not a hidden minefield.
Don't try to reel me in. Instead,
if I come to land near you, bear in mind that this is rare
but, too, bear in mind you have no obligation to want me here.
Please, don't try to pin me down.
If you ever do., I will be a dead thing of former splendor
pinned to your corkboard, and you will finally understand me
when all of my entrails come spilling out, displayed to you
and I lay, helpless.