i’m learning to see the love.

i’m learning to look at you
and not automatically see rage.

or fear.
or hurt.
or my father.

i will look at you and not see my father.

because you are kind
kind
kind

and there is actually so much love here.

and for once,
i can find it
without digging through
all the mud.

all the hurt.

rain soaked skies,
warmth blanketed bodies
laughing loudly
(oh god how sweet is the laughter)

gin painted lips
worn with love and passion.
voices of friends  
whispering prophecies

of a lifetime
waiting to be spent together.

all of this goodness
huddled under the shelter
of a house that holds
arms open.

with people warmed
by liquor that teaches tipsy.
that teaches joy filled tears
(i’m still echoing bellied laughter- it’s beginning to hurt)


there is so much love here.
it spills over plastic cups in hands
as a we dance
we dance.

i can not stop the gratitude
from leaving from my lips.

i can not be the only one that feels
all of this goodness.

(i love you,
please let us do this again.)

it's intoxicating.
the salt air on cool nights.

wind that disperses the scent,
pushing it closer to the deck
that warm bodies
are perched on.

warm bodies
that have full bellies
that grow painful
each time they laugh.

bellies that have been aching
for the last few hours,
because the laughter is harmonising
with body cries.

salt air
that blankets them.

salt air
so inebriating
it forces them into admission.

sweet confessions whispered
over mugs (warm and full).

songs of 'i love you'
swept up by the moon,
only to be caught in trees,
(let the words nestle here, please.
close to the ground,
before they are taken by the breeze).

and for a moment here,
they forget themselves,
forget the world,
and just be.

there's half eaten cake here.
remnants of its body
thrown onto small plates,
forks laid atop them.

empty bottles of cider
stand like bowling pins,
one stumble and they'll topple.
(much like us, one stumble and we'd fall).

drunken laughter,
spoken and unspoken admissions
fill the space between
silence and sleep.

and i wonder if years ago,
i had made a different choice,
if this is still
where i'd be.

salt seas
and cold nights.

narcotics atop sand:
your bellied laughter,
a little dry gin,
the rising sun warming our faces as it wakes the world.

and here with you,
maroon painted and
drunkenly dancing around words,

everything seems so
light.

your soul is dark,
and sullied black
by life.

it must ache
to be so              hollow.

to be so empty.
without substance,
without light.

a pit of mystery,
buried inside of you.
water so murky
a swimmer should not risk,

but boy,
i am drowning.

time takes us
and we let it.

i want to fight it,
but i do not know how.

anger will do nothing to slow it.
but i will still rage, in hopes that it will.
(it’s the only thing i know to do)