I met you
On a day I cannot
Recall
But I do
Know that
Each day after
Was brighter
When I was with you.

(there are your practice poems)
which we’ve all written
(there are your professional poems)
where we assume the accent of "the poet"
and then (there are your Real poems)
those where a woman can no longer speak to her mother
(and her mother isn’t dead yet)
and her husband stays by her side
(because their bond is that strong)
and that's how things end up
(how memories fail)
and we all get distracted
(from what really matters)
and then some child tries to make it right
(but fails, again)
like some inept diplomat
(and then gets distracted...

carve the words
"right" and "left"
deep into your wooden wrists
backwards, if you want
just make sure you can feel them
so you can't forget
how many letters
went unopened
or how red the ink must have appeared
as it bathed the roots
of so many solitary trees

please help
us fragile
human creatures
to remember
our dreams

there
                                               that's why i can never seem to totally despair

god would rather
have a you
that fails
than no you
at all
so i

like jasmine's comment
on facebook, when you can't
have hope, hold on to the hope
others hold for you

like desmond tutu
says, you know?
god says to you,
i don't have
anybody else!
except you!

god would rather
have a you
that fails
so i