There is no skill in feeling.
Deeply and widely
empty holes of upturned ground
boats at the floor of the sea
mountain peaks and sunshine, impossible sunshine
There is no skill in feeling.

I have felt hurricanes and drowning floods.
Disasters that have shaken bones and frozen veins,
yet
there is a hollowness to the knowing and being and–
being.

With you, I feel the white and gleaming opalescence of stars
bathing in the blue of a waning, navy sky.
I have felt whole.
For once, a beaming speckle in a sea of others
brighter and more beautiful
and I have felt the vastness of everything and not cared.
The world could open up and swallow everything
I might be a dandelion in a garden of daisies
I might be sand between toes, washed away in the fresh water of a summer day
but I have seen days with you…

One day I might cease to make new memories.
but I have felt peace with my heart
and I know what it means to feel deeply
to live unapologetically.

But the host within my head has not felt that.
she likes to bar the windows,
set chairs against door handles
lock me inside.
To feel is not a skill.
to feel– to let go

Sometimes I forget to be.
I forget days like the stars to morning,
Gardens like flowers to ice and sleet,
sometimes I am overcome by the vastness of everything

But I have seen days with you.
and one day, I want to just be.
A speckle of light in the vastness of everything.