as I sit on the sofa
sorting my spoils
reveling in this gift
of momentary childhood
the adult me peaks around the corners
at the trail of eggs
the joyful gasp
the carefully arranged basket
filled with candy
and magic
and love
and she knows
someday
his children will adore him 

the scent of spring returns
and the air fills with memories
the sweetness of the mist
preparing the earth
for everything that will bloom
before the heat of the summer
wilts the flowers
even as its sunlight
deepens our roots
new growth is painful
but the warmth on my skin
gives me hope
that we have learned
to hold fast to our foundations
and perhaps to each other
even as the cyclones arrive

the other night
your half-formed words
mumbled through half-formed dreams
convinced me
to let go of the notion
of sleep
for a while
instead trading up
for the task
of listening to
the gentle rhythms
of breath
of heartbeats
trying to commit them
to memory
so I never forget
how content I am
in these dark-covered moments 

love grows deeper
roots begin to take hold
unearthing buried desires
and sending them
to the surface
perfectly preserved
and once in open air
blooming into brilliant
and beautiful dreams 

I miss you
I love you
words I grow tired of hearing
when all I really want
is to fall asleep next to you
or even to suffer
the slings and arrows
of insomnia
as long as you’re where
I can reach over
touch you
hear you breathing
and when I return
from mid-night wanderings
hear you whisper those sleepy words
I missed you
I love you
that bring a magical beat
that both thrills
and delivers peace
to my heart
once again

I still imagine
all my future moments
the ones worth recalling
the ones that make up a life
as though I’m on my own
unattached
to anyone
not because it’s what I want
but because I know it’s guaranteed
I will always be around
as long as I am
I am the only audience
guaranteed to applaud
the show of my life
but then I think
would I give myself
that standing ovation
if there were no one there to see it?

of memories
of moments
of things I don’t want to forget
the documentation grows
as if I’ve forgotten the lessons
taught to me by the past
of sentiment made kindling
to send smoke signals
to the gods
begging them
to let me forget
but something glows within
urging the risk
of building a house
of mirrors to the past
with the hope that
should our hearts grow cold
we might find warmth
inside its walls
instead of burning it
to ashes

sometimes we fight
by taking up arms against evil foes
by making arduous journeys across lands unknown
by writing treatises with violent proclamations
demanding the universe see it our way
and yet other times it’s as simple
as calling out to a confidante
even if it’s just a whisper
with more words between the lines
than in them
plans laid aside while we meet
person to person
eye to eye
heart to heart
rebuilding our reserves
only to find
the enemy was defeated
while we were busy
loving each other

sometimes the idea
of locking two lives together
completely baffles me
there is so much to lose
when the seams come apart
other times
all I want
is to intertwine myself
in someone else’s limbs
for an hour
or a day
or forever
a constant war
waged within
don’t rely
but trust
don’t jump in
but let yourself fall
as if it’s a choice
but the question no one
can ever answer
until you’re picking yourself off the ground
is what happens
when you land?

sometimes the words
just won’t come
or perhaps they do
before they’re ready
and then disappear
leaving only their shadows
and the fear
they were wearing costumes
masquerading
making fools
but actions unmask thoughts
still metamorphosing
into words
soothe trepidation
build trust
that the truth
is making
its way to the surface