Month: April 2016

September

I.
Somewhere on the spectrum between
soft-spoken & bean-pole bodied
my sweet sibling, you graze the surface of solid ground

II.
I am lucky to catch you in fractions of time
as your eyes speak to me often, only to tell me you have gone elsewhere
floating in outer space maybe, with meteors and comets and space dust
or shipyards and computer parts and words in french I could never begin to understand

III.
You come back every now & then
to say “Hi!” and tell me you love me with small tokens
like smiling at a joke you didn’t quite hear
or telling me about your favorite book

IV.
Before traveling off again
you speak to me quietly
eyes amused, sleepy, spacey
Happy, I hope.

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Brainstorm

I think about the first time you told me you loved me often.
We were on our way home
New-Haven bound on the Metro-North
You were fidgeting and acting incredibly odd
(as much as I could tell, for someone who hadn’t known you for very long at all)
Right before, you had said “I can’t believe I’m going to say this”
And you knew it was a risk

I had felt myself wondering when I would tell you
Thinking “now”, that day, all day, would have been much too soon
And for most people it would have been
I don’t think you knew it was mutual yet
I think you were scared but trusting, and took a leap
For such a guarded man
I have seen leaps and bounds of faith between us
You have been giving me parts of you that you never thought even possible
and I hope to do the same
with every fear of commitment
in every moment of doubt
I love you too.