I remember when I thought
you might really be mine.
We were chasing the last tolerable moments
before the storm wrapped itself
around us.
Seagulls swarmed above our heads
and I thought they would surely
take you from me.
Foaming waves crashed
against our feet
and I tried desperately to anchor myself
to you.

I felt like something of a stray
that you had picked up-
your good deed.

Maybe the snow melted my armor.
Maybe the rush of it all
left me temporarily unable
to worry myself inside out.
I took off my coat
and my defenses
and laughed my head off
running through the freezing sand
still keeping up with you
somehow.

Now I just want to live,
forever yours,
in a tiny snow globe
of our storm.

Should you ever need me,

I’ll be exactly where
you would expect to find me.

Waves up to my neck,
treading water for a lifetime.
Trying my guts out,
hardly saving your life
or mine.

We’re going to wash up
somewhere familiar
and imaginary.
We’ll write our names in the sand
just large enough for the gulls to
notice.

It was just an incidental finding, really.
But the moment before you sink,
you realize you’ve been weightless
for a while.

You’re skinny, sick
and sought after.  

Your arms are crawling with thorns.
You snarled me in
& spit me out
Within a year that felt
like a fever dream.

Love
or
whatever it was
came through like a train
without breaks or direction.

Your green eyes cut through
your own veil of smoke.

We’re a ***** mirror.
This whole thing is flipped.
I sink into the ceiling fans,
exhaling resignation.
No one would get out of this
without wounds.

I tried to steady your hands.
I tried to drain the flood waters.
I tried to derail you
from the infinite loop towards
infinite sleep.
I tried to shake you awake.
I sent up five hundred flares from the shore
looking at your island.
I threw you a rope,
tossed you a raft,
kept the light on for a while.

The vessels burst
all at once,
all in an afternoon.

You drove us
right towards the railing
of the tappan zee bridge.
Not knowing which death was worse,
I just jumped.

Almost.
Not quite.
An embarrassment of keys fumble awkwardly towards the lock,
half heartedly trying to get me
into you.

Not so.  Not quite.
We’ve been through an ocean of almost.
Ranges full of chances.
Libraries full of
pretty close,
nearly fixed,
weak and luke warm stories
about each one that got gone
& got away.

My head is a clumsy balloon
Severed from its stem.
Disconnected / free to roam:
A distraction for the disenchanted.

I’ll lift your spirits.
I’ll crash your cars.

I’m a pause between words
A missed opportunity
Every thing we should have said.
We’re defined by the dead air
Between our feet.

I’m a vague sky.
Uncertain
Hovering & looming
Threatening & promising
To piece you together
Or portion you off for the crows.

I’m a hummingbird.
I move so quick, I’m temporary.
You can’t be certain
That my iridescent,
Incoherent beating
Ever happened at all.

You must be having a good time up there
in that blue
with those sparrows,
who flutter in and out of your hair
and your hands,
without purpose or presence.

You’re a sight.
You’re a spectacle.
You’re a mirage.

And although I know 
that I ought to warn you of the impending swarm,
I cannot bring myself to interrupt
a quick moment of calm
in an otherwise dissonant day.

You’re my type. 

Bruised fruit. Grounded bird. Poisoned pool

That we’re all jumping into

To save yourself (ourselves).

Doomed to feel it all

Or drown it away slowly

Until you’re a diluted version of yourself.

You’re a natural disaster;

I just tread through your wake.

Moth to a ******* flame..

I just can’t quit you.

I wonder what it was

That you needed to find.

I wonder if anything
Or anyone at all
Might have

Lit your path
Broke your fall

Or sewn up your mangled heart in time.