I spent an afternoon
flirting with a possibility
in a sea of possibilities
the possibility
that my life might move
horizontally,
the possibility of travel,
the possibility of distance,
the possibility of a waking
destination,
the possibility of you
of you,
here,
a plane, a train, a bus ride
away

i'm prone to doubt
so i kept a list
of each and every moment
that my heart (mind)
asked me if i loved them
until the entries were too numerous to deny
and all that was left
was yearning
and an answer i could trace
in real time

you never asked to read my poetry
maybe that was the sign.
i told you i wrote for fun,
you shrugged and moved on.

When I was a child,
I was taught poetry wasn't mild,
It was deep as the sea,
And it seemed truly unachievable for me.
I was taught poetry had to rhyme,
Every single line, every single time.
So poetry seemed out of my reach,
Like chasing a seagull down a beach,
Jumping ever so slightly away,
Or soaring into the sunny day.

So I never thrived for what I thought would,
No, Could
Never be.

I guess now I'm fixing the mistakes of past me.