for months, I’ve wondered
about the whatifs and the howlongmustIwaits—
so tired, so frustrated, so impatient was I—
but on this evening, as the snow begins to fall,
I hear you cry and I realize

that it is not always about the questions we ask amongst our discontent,
but rather,
the answers we gather as we comfort one another:

we wrap warm woolen blankets around each other’s shoulders and
               we listen for the tea kettle whisper and
                        we hold hands
                     [just holding hands]
                     and wait for the right time for the other to speak.

because sometimes, getting what we thought we’d wanted for years
[so many tears, so many tears]
pales in comparison to helping someone else we cherish get through just one day.

so rather than asking the
whenwillyourealize or the
howcouldyounotnotice and the
whenwillyouwakeupandsee—
let us instead ask the
whatdoyouneeds, the
howcanIhelps, and offer the
{Iloveyou,nowwhat?}s

when you cry on the line—
the one we listen to, and the one we’ve both walked upon
(but never crossed)—
know that, yes, I’ve loved you for some time,
but I’m making the decision to be what it is you need
(whistle, whistle, whistle)
rather than begging silently for what I would like.

so sit down on that old porch swing, and stay awhile,
and wait for me to grab the hot water off the stove.

photograph One:
i see you, and the first things i see are your dark eyes
you sit beside me with open hands and make me laugh over coffee.

photograph Two:
one night i notice your mouth. you haven't drank but i have.
still all i see are your eyes when you first lean in.
i'm aroused and utterly haunted.

photograph Three:
you're so pale i want to colour you in. i want to make you alive.
you're dancing so frenetically, my marionette man
and i can't tell who tugs the strings.

photograph Four:
It's after midnight and you've stormed from my house snarling
like a wolf waiting to die.
"i'm poison" you spit. "i'll poison you, too".
"you and me." i plead. "i won't run".

photograph Five:
it's a cloudy day. you tell me you love me without looking me in the eye.

photograph Six:
you're standing in the open doorway against winter wind
dragging a half-quit cigarette and i am hugging my knees on your couch
waiting for you to calm
our eyelashes smeared chilly with tears.

photograph Seven:
you are lying on the floor, heaving with sobs.
i am holding you as tight as i can because i don't know what to do
and i'm afraid if i let you go you will cremate in the heat of your darkness
already we are both husks.

photograph Eight:
we lie awake in your cold bed and we are strangers
you will not touch me and i feel naked.

photograph Nine:
i awoke at 4am from a dream of you that was a lie
many months after i fled from your ghost
and like an infected wound
it still throbs hotly that i could not save you
and that for so long i could not save myself from you
the dark-eyed boy with the angel tattoo

String me up like a marionette.
Pull my strings, watch me dance.
Dance my way through relationships,
friendships, sinking ships.
Watch me give you an Oscar-gold
performance. You can't tell that
I'm as hollow as the o in love.
As hollow as your smile
to everyone but me.

She took my hand and followed me
through the trees,
under the archway made of ivy
(flanked by pristinely carved hedges)
into the vast, open field
which met the ethereal red sun
on the horizon.

We sat in the fresh grass,
cool in the evening air.
All the while we stayed silent,
just admiring the untouched space.
Each blade of grass before us
swayed gently,
tantalisingly...

Time had stopped
but everything was still living.
Still moving.
As if this place were not included
in Time's perseverance.  
I didn't want it to be,
it was too important to me.

It occurred to me then
that it wasn't this place
that I valued the most at all
It was this moment.

And I captured it.

I'll take up smoking
     because it will bring warmth to my lungs, worn from lamenting,
& I'll learn to play the acoustic guitar,
     because the songs of its strings resonate reminiscently with the sound of your voice.
I'll lose sleep in waiting
     for your greetings & goodbyes,
& I'll find strength in old messages
     (old memories)
     you once felt desire to send.
[one day I'll learn, & I'll secure myself in place.]
---
you'll grow tall in your heart,
     because you do not yet know the love of which you are capable,
& you'll lose hope sometimes,
     because there are still so many mistakes to be made.
you'll eat late in the evenings,
     because you've got so many better things to do,
& you'll eventually forget that these years,
     (these moments,)
     don't last forever.
[one day, you'll learn, & you'll fly.]
---
& we, like the tide,
     will rise & fall.
we'll say hello on occasion,
     but never goodbye.
we'll find vices to fill our gaps,
     (because the summer is over, my love)
     & the sun is setting on our time.
& some day, we'll learn, & we'll migrate in bittersweet peace.