it's 9:41 pm at night

it's 9:41 pm at night and
i'm thinking about when Chris
told me no one would ever love
me as much as him--and I'm thinking
about you too. Because I know that love
is not a thing to be measured, and if it were
we wouldn't do it with time or space or the edges
of old wooden rulers tapped briefly on knuckles

and tonight you're wrapped around my ankles like
a tabby cat--somewhere out there with your ropes
untied and shoes unlaced, your straps all in an organized
tizzy, with your caps off, windows open, and an empty
dresser drawer that you never know what to do with--    but i do

and I'm not asking you to come find me because that would be
too easy and I know you'll settle in at just the right time
probably in no hurry, supposedly passing through but
you'll find that you're woven into the threads of an
earth so familiar, and the girl at the counter seems
to be asking if she can dance with you without
lifting a finger, because the way she moves is
not at all unique, but you've seen her before.
you've seen her before, somewhere in a dream
in a memory beyond your body.

Say what you can say--that's me. Here's your chance.


Here's your chance.

i keep thinking about the way
your fingers don't leave bruises on
my hips the way they used do

when did you stop trying to hold
on so tight? when did you stop
trying?

we twist and twist and twist
like dishrags over an empty sink
where do all the drops of us go
where do they go
where do we go
eighteen
and i feel like i’m running dry

(photographs; kaleidoscopes)**
I tried to capture you
in words, the way you were, the way
with each relentless second
you would never be again.

2. (words were not enough)
because
a) language is a frail medium
    for the powerful; the overwhelming;
b) emotions are shifting, & imprecise.

3. (I tried, a thousand times, to say)
how I found in you the wonder I had always looked for;
always missed.

4. (we can choose how we react)
how rare and beautiful
it is — to me — that you exist.

5. (you)
your hurricane eyes
twilight smiles
shoulders

where
have you
been?

6. (define morning as a feeling, not a time of day)
what did you think about when you poured your coffee and did you feel relieved when you heard the sound of rain? what colour was the daylight; and does love ever happen to you, in the traffic of rush hour?

7. (I said)
“come on --
let me take you home”.

“I am here” she said “you are it”

8. (he asked me)
"have you ever been in love with someone you knew you couldn’t have?”

I’ve never been anything else.

9. (a single green light across the bay)
I will rearrange my life around your meaningless smiles —

when love is not returned to us,
we will never stop looking for it.

10. (holding on and letting go)
there is a space between breaths and heartbeats — an endless moment, the infinite, an entr’acte in the operas of unrequited love.

11. (simply because I found her irresistible)
and yet that’s what we do, isn’t it?
we hang onto hope —
in every hopelessly irrational way that we can.

12. (and so part of me is always a fool)
I will wait for you forever.

benjamin tells me that
i should take my anxiety and
hold it away for a while,
let the restlessness build up
and then channel the overwhelming
into a sense of euphoria,
my own twisted high

and i don't know how, but
i will try my best for him,
i will try my best,
i will try