I Am Floating In The Earth's Ink, A Night Dew

I still wear the Unique intimacy Of your kiss On my lips Like a Soothing balm

A love recipe Designed and made Only for us That I keep In a jar Only for myself

Poetry is just as visual As any other form of art.

The punctuation, the spacing, The length and width In the breaking of lines,

Thoughtful Arrangement Of words

Matters.

It matters as I am painting with letters.

It's part of the picture, The texture of poetry Is flowing, flowing.

Do you see? I ask,

D o  y o u  s e e  m e a n i n g?

How do I give a voice To my anger When I have banished it To the corner For whispering? Like it is the child I am ashamed of, Or that if I were to Let it speak It might scream And never stop

I've passed off so many Thoughts to you, Anger, I'm sorry For making you bear That burden When I had never given You the chance to Grow strong So you might know how To stand by me

And I'm sorry, I never Trusted you Because you hurt So often in the past, I chose serenity, I needed it But I felt you, Simmering inside me Squashed down when All you wanted Was just to be heard

She asks me casually Why do I love you? And what sort of question is that?

I love you simply because I know no other way of being To not love you is not an option To not love you would be An emptiness my heart doesn't deserve

She asks again Why do I love you? Does she think I can find reasons?

I love you because I did once One time that is ever continuous One lifetime of love inside my body A body that is far from you still A body that holds me like I hold you

She asks once more Why do I love you? Did I not answer her question?

I love you because I want to My love for you is my greatest joy Without hope or fantasy or dreaming I love you because it is enriching I love you because it is necessary

Let the wind take it Dissolve into the air The remnants of our Horrible affair

Let the storms have it And with force blown away So I won't think of You for one more day

I feel a kinship with birds and spiders One eats the other The smaller one is feared The larger one is adored

A bird is artistic and beautiful A spider creates beautiful art A spider catches its prey in the art A bird catches a spider for a little snack

A small zen garden Sits on the therapist's desk To calm both of us

Christmas to me is a quiet warmth Background music, spicy candles, My favorite blanket at home.

A comfortable kinship with family, A respite in celebrating alone.

I untangle with the string lights, A gentle glow I feel deep in my bones.

Christmas is a gift I unwrap slowly, With delicate hands and a softer tone, These silent nights are all my own.

Two star signs, two ruled by The moon and sun All the other signs are planets They are the exception The royal luminaries Glowing in their heaven

Two signs formed side by side In the vastness A sparkling duality amidst the Ever orbiting constellations

Together here, if nowhere else In the maps, in the blue The moon and sun Exist forever in twilight In that narrow stretch of time Where day and night softly meet

You and I stand at the Shop counter We are buying a Freshly baked blueberry pie To bring over to your Brother's home towns away

You stand patiently In your thick woolen Overcoat, in the many layers Under your violet skirt That has faded to lilac

The shopkeeper counts Our shared coins And you look at me With the warmest eyes On this blistering afternoon

You look at me so innocently In this small, warm Bakery, like looking At me could melt the winter From our hats and mittens

You say thank you to the Kind man with the Graying mustache in The coziest voice I know as if it were my own

We walk down the street Down to the train, where You will sit close Beside me, and it will Not be the pie that warms us