There is comfort
That sits at the end of the sunlit hallway
A familiar soul resting
Against the trademark white and blue

I find warmth in your jacket-clad grasp
And in your groggy, yet reassuring smile
Our voices contain remnants of 2 in the morning
But your eyes still twinkle beneath your heavy eyelids

There is sweetness
In the words that roll off your tongue
And in your unexpected embraces
That melt my heart into honey

I find shelter in the familiar roars of laughter
That ricochet and bounce against the walls
The same ones that have held me
Since my younger and simpler days

There is light
That radiates from your face
A brilliance impossible to ignore, a candle igniting another
And I long to bathe in that heat day after day

I find sorrow in knowing
That it won’t be yours that greets me
In that sunlit hallway anymore
Not for a while, not for a long time

There is hurt
In the way you say “see you soon”
But there is also love in your goodbyes
For I know a warm “hello” is sure to follow

I find peace because I am sure
That there will always be
Other sunlit hallways for us to walk into
But this time I will be holding your hand

wouldn’t it be great to learn Greek
she says
quickly riffling
through the phrasebook
with a thumb and her tongue out
while I try to discover what
‘to speak’ is in Dutch

everyone uses English
you know I say
spluttering ‘ik spreek, jij spreek,
hij spreek’,
trying to nail the pronunciation
like the book tells me to
‘ick sprake, yigh sprake, hi sprake’

but they might appreciate
tourists knowing a bit in Crete
like ‘efcharistó’
or ‘ti ypérochi méra’ she mutters
but it all, literally,
sounds Greek to me
and we can’t visit everywhere

besides, she wants warm weather
but I’d be fine in, say, Sweden,
‘Där är den närmaste Ikea?’
or in Iceland, but I can’t
pronounce anything
the way the phrasebook
wants me to

so Greece is probably best,
and anyway,
she’s too busy
informing me that
‘monókeros’ means unicorn
and it’s 575 quid each
if we book now

Multitude of moth
drawn to light
black of night outside window
Wings of white, a hundred score
maybe more
all wish to pour in
absorb

What are these desires?
exertion bouncing upon windowpane
some beetles eating other bugs
Easy to know their intentions

But about the bouncing spotted ones
What of this light that pulls them in?
electric fervor
Are they pulled, by some force of fascination?

No worry to the bat
being drug and tipsy winged
millions a fluttering feasts

Wish I were that bat
Wish I were just one of those moths
Wish I could fly
Into the light

Tell us your witty tales, bard
Don't leave us whimpering and suffering
On the other side of this pale, pitiful, world
Tell us anything to ward off the demons
Tell us something to make the ale taste better
As we swim where dreams and nightmares clash

Drench our sorrows with your songs, bard
Send all the soldiers and waifs home tonight
With wrinkled smiles on forlorn faces
Strum your chords as we gambol about
Hit your notes as we hit each other
And laugh spitefully at fate's cruel jokes

Lumps appear under my skin
wishing them away doesn’t work
some look like mulberries
There are ones with greenish hues
others blue-black, juicy and ripe
these are the ones I want to bite into

I remember that great mulberry tree of our youth
down by the creek
We climbed that tree and sat for hours
on hot July and August afternoons
devouring juicy dark purple fruit

Our mother’s called as the ballgame dispersed
and we pretended to be nowhere in sight
or within ear shot
We knew the way home

And as we stared at each other’s stained
magenta toothy snickers
faces, hands, tee shirts
even ears and grimy hair
We made a pact
to eat our way to the tippy-top
of that delicious, decadent arbor

I’m home, again
noticing that mulberry tree no longer exists
but I see you at times
and you kindly wave to me
upon passing
I know there’s no need to wait around
till July or August
as I don’t expect our summer dares
mulberry gushing ecstasy
will ever be again

O to be the fertile compost
down by that creek
where a mulberry tree might grow
Again

I feel like if I were in one of those alternate universe stories where you have the name of your soul mate or a timer counting down to the exact second you meet your soul mate, I would be one of the faults. I would be one of the flaws in the system. I would be the one person who had their timer run out, but the person I had just met still had three years left on their's. I'd be the person to have a name on my wrist and that exact person had a name that wasn't mine. I just feel like I would be the bug in the system that had no solution.