Please love me, although I have loved before.
Please know that even if
I have worshiped foreign hands,
Marveled at constellation eyes,
Shed tears for other minds and hearts
That tore from me some brutal, awesome love,
Know that nobody has ever made me feel safe
For any measurable length of time.
That not one of them ever stopped in the midst of kissing me to say
"You are just so beautiful."
The way you did, Lover,
2
3
4 times,
Just yesterday.
That all the flowers I ever gave them,
All the gifts and poems and artwork
All those things to show my love
Were tolerated
The way the sun is tolerated on a blistering summer day
Because to escape from it would be too difficult.
Know that I always knew that,
Felt it from them,
Felt shame for it.
And no matter how many photographs I have obsessively taken
Of a face I thought they must have molded the face of the sun after in every ancient carving,
Know that she never wanted me to see her.
And that that
COUNTS.
You looking up at me from those white sheets, Lover,
And never glancing away in embarrassment or apprehension
Counts:
Skin
Counts
To someone who has been held at arm's length for so many years.
Kisses count,
And I count them, every single one soothing the ache of the losses I never asked
To suffer.
It is true, you are not my first love.
But never have you pushed me away.
Never have you shut me down,
Never
Have you been cruel to me.
And all this
I find it counts
More than the awe I felt for those who would abuse me,
More than the fear and loss and devotion and destruction that they demanded
And then blamed me for the consequences of.
Although I have loved before,
Please, please, please love me now,
For that is something you can be
First at,
Lover.

Cotton wisps of clouds do scuttle by
Newborn babies first voiced cry
As if believing in the earth
The willow bends and dips with mirth
Collections gathered over times
Possessions bagged stand all in lines
Deep held thoughts released in breath
Towards our future with one step
Tomorrow fades to today’s yesterday
As upright do the faithful pray
Gathered spirits once thought spent
No longer even anger do we vent
For casting eyes from shadows deep
White sunshine dawns horizons creep
Bringing warmth to solitude
No longer to self do we delude
Visions splashed across clear skies
Forward progress banished lies
Treetops skimming at first try
No longer do we weep or cry
As if in being crystal scene
Life taking shape within our dream
Sorrow banished to the past
Eyes looking forward thoughts we cast
(GE2014)(C) Reserved
………..

I crave you like a cigarette and I just as equally want to burn you.
Smoking is an addiction of poison that will waste you away and acid drenched flowers will grow from your ribcage. But I assure you, I'd rather turn my lungs to ash than ever be kissed by the putrid lips of love.

I watched as you
cast yourself away
one step at a time;
with my gaze fixed
at your dauntless irises
how could I have known
that with every breath
you were drifting further away.

The clocks ticked away,
and all I have is the last of
second chances.

I watched as you slowly,
very slowly,
with such grace,
effortlessly,
faded into the horizon.

And all I have to thank
is the image of you
my eye lids were able to retain.

When I die, dear Mother
don't give my body away
to science.

I'd rather have it given away to poetry.

I want people to cut me open
and observe
how my bones were riddled with
melancholic verses of joyful pasts.

They have to see
the scarlet of my blood was the hue
I stole from the sunsets of
wishful thoughts.

Dear Mother,
give my body away
to the art of writing:
for they have to look past
everything they have ever learned.

They must know
of how much I loved and I lost,
and how that made the twine of my ribs
a story to tell.