Climbing Out Of Your Dimples

Climbing Out Of Your Dimples

The hardest lessons lie on the other side

of the simplest graces;

half drunk coffee shaded by morning faces,

the made bed erasing the outline

of our shapes in it.

Life interrupted by the presence of another

grazing the nape of my neck,

skin a confusion of perfect sense

because I believe the universe is foolproof

and my learning is in the leaving of everything

but your borrowed toothbrush.

X Marks The Spot

X Marks The Spot

The seats we sat on,

mine precariously, cross-legged but not comfortably,

balancing the weight of something both new and nostalgic,

the way you took off your denim jacket,

the way you fidget with your wristbands out of habit.

The cups we drank from,

yours plastic, mine ceramic.

I think they sensed the flush from our skin

when the ice in yours melted,

no attention paid to how they tasted.

We all knew, me and you didn’t show up for the coffee.

The ground we walked on,

mindless pacing yet purposeful.

Were our steps in time,

following the trail of crumbs through our past lives?

I’ll mark each stop with a cross,

treasuring the map that sends us round and round in buried circles.

Vigil #2

Vigil #2

I am still not accustomed

to being wanted for my company,

so used to hosting men

in my bed and this body,

the universe expanding

as somehow my space becomes erased.

To be asked what brings me pleasure

should be so everyday.

I may not be convinced of my beauty yet

but I can believe that I am safe,

even as my deepening breath

begs for armour

or out of habit, sleep hesitates,

both waiting up for the decision my heart makes

to trust the hands that hold me.

Good Old Days

Good Old Days

You came to me as a match,

that one chance to spark a flame

created a candle lit dinner

with soul food to take away.

It’s the risk of burning which tells me I’m safe

building bonfires with the childlike abandon

of a heart who believes

we’re dancing in circles where we’ve already been

and we need no time to waste

all the time in the world.

The Distant Present

The Distant Present

I’ve noticed the change,

where before clouds would pass

now this weather is still.

Torrential rain or sunshine rays

and I observe from above,

untouched by the daily gusts of wind,

I am holding this self in place.

Something stays with me,

I cannot put my finger on it,

but a trace of your soul remains in my days

and I’ve never felt more peaceful.

I trace yours

with intentions sent across ocean waves.

Our love spans continents,

don’t ask me how

you exist so close when so far away.