I was wrong
At the dimly lit restaurant, We make talk that seems smallEvery time my lips part, I want to scream I was wrong I tell you between my teeth(I was wrong)I say it every time I inhale(I was wrong) When I speak,
Category: Poetry
Your checklist of firsts
They say progress is happinessWell how did it feelTo crumple your checklist of firstsAnd leave it on my couch Accomplished? Ecstatic?Motivated for what’s next?It’s a sweet thing to see the inkDried and discarded First isn’t last, unfortunatelyBut you live, you
What I mean when I tell you that I want you
Your body is some artful mix of Grecian marble, sun-drenched canvas, and a palette of a life well lived. You belong in a museum where people can appreciate you from every angle. I love your body and I would visit
The difference between us
The difference between us I watch her long, brown hair waving with her laughter as she busies herself at the stove. I watch her as she cracks open her heart. She grabs a well-used whisk and turns the ache into
Sometimes peace
Sometimes peace comes from a look shared across a table, a moment that makes you feel seen. Sometimes it comes from pressing flesh against flesh, cheek to chest as you fall asleep. Sometimes peace comes when you’re so busy, you
Rise to love
Rise to love Don’t fall into it Use all of your muscles Stand on the tips of your toes If it’s great, it’s worth it And we both know A great love is what you deserve
Your laugh
I shut my eyes and imagine your laugh You are close for a moment and the ache in my ribs goes away I can’t quite hear it but it’s there I know that if I reach my hand up, I could
They have love
Everyone else has love The simple ones, the racist ones, The women who hate themselves, The men who keep secrets They have love I want to ask them what it’s like What’s it like to have arms wrapped around your
My grandfather’s old shirt
When I put on my grandfather’s old shirt Clean hands don’t feel comfortable I have to press my fingers into the earth I have to build things, To brave slivers from raw edges, To be bruised I have to live
To the captain of the concrete ship
To the captain of the concrete ship, I get it You’re trying to convince anyone to help you pull up that anchor For an hour, for a day If I were heavy like you, I might do the same I