poets are the people with the words in their veins
worlds in their minds beating against the curves of their skull
syllables in their palmprints

poets are the people who look at you and see
the galaxies underneath your skin
instead of the spiderweb cracks
on the surface

poets are the people who fall easy and live hard
(you've always been jealous of them
and you're not sure why)

(maybe it's got something to do with
the wisdom you know they know
and the seventeen ways
they know how to live)

i am not a poet
i'm just trying
to figure out
who might be

i met you exactly once.
i was five and you were tall
and you'd brought me some toy
(stereotypically girly).
i've never played with dolls
and you apologized for assuming.
a week later
you sent me some legos.

i've seen you exactly twice.
the first, i barely remember.
the second i recall all too well
because my parents were crying
but my cousin,
your son,
wasn't.

i find myself wishing i'd kept the **** doll
because the legos you got me
were mixed with the others
a long time ago.

twenty-four hours spent on you,
and i think i'm done mourning
the one thing we never had.

WHY CAN'T YOU TELL ME
THE THINGS I TELL YOU

I WANT TO BEAR
YOUR BURDENS TOO