What is this love
That rises
From such fleeting encounters
And
Don't you dare
For a second
Say that it's infatuation
It was not
The shape of your body
But the sanctuary of your gaze
That causes me to lament
What we could be
Our paths bend
Touching at the elbows
Then parting sharply
What form of matter
conjured by your stare
Is capable of affecting me so?

Line after line
Word after word
I feebly
and desperately
utter these simple combinations
like prayers
or mantras
hoping to infuse
them with some divine
healing power
wishing
completion for myself
and these poems
but neither of us
is ever finished
nor
will we ever be finished
because pain is a marathon runner
and I
can guarantee you
he is better conditioned
for the trek
than you
or I

Insert appropriate metaphor here
some flourishing
elegant
representation of
whatever the **** is going on
inside me
because
god knows
if there is one
that I don’t even know
how to talk about
this
whatever
“this” is
maybe if I just put
another brilliant
and articulate
simile here
or maybe an allusion or quote
that perfectly captures
and labels this pain
and fear
yes
that’s it
I feel
better already
isn’t poetry great?

You’re at a party
and I'm here studying
by myself
wondering
what the threshold is
for trust
in a relationship
because there is a part of me
that knows
it’s already over
you’ve found someone else
you are dancing and happy
and the ****** atmosphere is quickly becoming too much for you to endure
and another part of me
hopes
that you are sitting alone
sad
unable to enjoy yourself
because I’m not there
I hate both versions of me equally
and they seem to hate each other as well
as they refuse to bear some sort of reasonable offspring
capable of interpreting the situation
with tact and logic
no
instead they will continue to bicker
and I will sit in the middle
like a child of divorce
stuck in the squabble
with my heart in my hands
slowly pulling it apart
while you dance
or cry
wondering why I can’t seem to do either

You held my arm
and you told me
that I was different
an “enigma”
and as flattering as that was
I can’t deny the fact that
you
seem to inhabit
the exact same space
for me
in my experience
you’re a wart
some aberration of
beauty and intelligence
that wears on my consciousness
like a good novel
or a thoughtful film
I’m forced to deal
with your implications
day in and day out
I have no choice but
to consider
what your presence
really means
for me
you’re the point
on a line segment

I'm too far away
from those summer nights
when we would just sit
and listen
to each other
breathe
i don't remember
i think you tried
to change me
but
i know
i tried to change
you
if I remember
you said I wasn't
there for you
but the face you put on
is turning old and gray
and my sympathies are withering
maybe one day
you'll see
i was the shoulder you said you need

When I connect with a poem
I don't really care
Who wrote it
Or
Where they're from
Still
I weave a tapestry
In their honor
Composed not of facts
About who they were
in life or death
But solely with the colored thread
They have hidden
for you
and
for me