Jan 2013
I didn’t fall in love with his mind, or his eyes, or his voice. I fell in love
with the way he could take a common question such as “what is love?”
and give me the only answer that could
break the shackles tethering me to anyone but him.
I fell in love with the way the quizzical clouds rolled over the stormy blue skies
that held all the things I did not yet know about myself, how
with one long gaze,
he raised just as many questions as he gave me answers.
I fell in love with invisible safety he effortlessly breathed
across the ivory peaks and valleys of his mouth
and one crooked tooth on the left.
He didn’t fall in love
with my heart, or my soul, or my will. He fell in love with the way
I never questioned driving across town each day
in a gas guzzling truck that gets a whopping 17 miles to the gallon.
He fell in love with the ego boost accompanying the unceasing
words cooed in affection. He fell
in love with the strings I tied around my own wrists
when I handed him the reins.
He didn’t vanish
like I expected after the last 400 kisses and prolonged embraces.
His voice didn’t sound like a stranger’s
when he called 10 minutes later.
His presence didn’t leave my life.
It remains, popping up in unexpected flashbacks,
but his physical being left me behind,
and I could feel his body leaving mine like
a magnet resisting the separation of its companion.
His presence doesn’t leave me
raw and unable to breathe like a bare body
enduring the cold winds of a winter rain. Instead,
I am forever ****** with every “what-if”
appearing like a seemingly benign tumor, but only
I can feel the malignant pressure as I lay awake at 1 in the morning
feeling the vibrations of the violent shakes
that have so tragically married the tears he used to evoke. I am cursed
to search for the one that will outshine the bright beacon of my past,
drawing me back in like a senseless insect toward the deadly light.
He is the one that has found a home in me,
the one that time can’t erase.
with the way he could take a common question such as “what is love?”
and give me the only answer that could
break the shackles tethering me to anyone but him.
I fell in love with the way the quizzical clouds rolled over the stormy blue skies
that held all the things I did not yet know about myself, how
with one long gaze,
he raised just as many questions as he gave me answers.
I fell in love with invisible safety he effortlessly breathed
across the ivory peaks and valleys of his mouth
and one crooked tooth on the left.
He didn’t fall in love
with my heart, or my soul, or my will. He fell in love with the way
I never questioned driving across town each day
in a gas guzzling truck that gets a whopping 17 miles to the gallon.
He fell in love with the ego boost accompanying the unceasing
words cooed in affection. He fell
in love with the strings I tied around my own wrists
when I handed him the reins.
He didn’t vanish
like I expected after the last 400 kisses and prolonged embraces.
His voice didn’t sound like a stranger’s
when he called 10 minutes later.
His presence didn’t leave my life.
It remains, popping up in unexpected flashbacks,
but his physical being left me behind,
and I could feel his body leaving mine like
a magnet resisting the separation of its companion.
His presence doesn’t leave me
raw and unable to breathe like a bare body
enduring the cold winds of a winter rain. Instead,
I am forever ****** with every “what-if”
appearing like a seemingly benign tumor, but only
I can feel the malignant pressure as I lay awake at 1 in the morning
feeling the vibrations of the violent shakes
that have so tragically married the tears he used to evoke. I am cursed
to search for the one that will outshine the bright beacon of my past,
drawing me back in like a senseless insect toward the deadly light.
He is the one that has found a home in me,
the one that time can’t erase.
