Spinning, all of the things.
Parental almost-separation, co-habitation.
Salvation?
Siblings and psychiatric hospitals.
Long, warm embraces with you.
Financial disentangling from him.
Baking, trampolines, mandarines
with my little loves.
Weekends snatched with you
tangled in sheets,
tangled in deep
conversation.
And an understanding -
that I'm reeling--
overload of feeling.

How deep is this love,
how mature will it become?
Will it flash in the pan,
decisions made rashly,
lives upended?
Or will it burn,
stoked by the twin flames
of friendship and desire?
I’m pulled slowly,
bitten nails clawing,
into the feelings of
buoyancy, trust,
positivity, possibility.
Are my nails clean enough?

You are unearthing me—
all the nooks and crannies,
all the things that make me, me.
And you are very clear —
you like what you see.

You’re paying homage to me
with your touch along my curves and edges.
With your golden, intense eyes.
With your kiss, your adoration.

This paid homage stirs me,
shakes out hidden grief,
reopens closed space,
unlocks dammed love.
Starts a new journey of ‘we’.

You’re paying homage to me,
aiming to reach me.
Intentionally, joyfully,
breaking down my
solitary
reality.