we sleep,
our backs pressed together,
except I’m not really asleep
I’m listening to your nervous breathing
you had a bad day
I don’t know how to make it better,
so I wedge myself
more snuggly against your back
than is accidentally possible
hoping that maybe
dream-you will know you are safe
love
Poem #817
we sit in the bathtub together
your knees pushing on mine
the soft wave of water whenever we move
that little drip noise when we lift our hands
your hair is slicked back
and your eyes are wide.
the words march out of you
organized, powerful.
like a true revolutionary
I was attracted to you before
but this, it’s neodymium
the only reason I didn’t drown
is because you got up
and grabbed a towel
Poem #816
when I see you
it’s your black hole eyes
that suck me in.
but the gravity of your eyes
is nothing
you are everything
the sweet notes you leave me
your enthusiasm for justice
the way you pronounce “alien”
how you try so hard
even when most people wouldn’t
to be kind and patient
you, your essence,
are a nebula.
a cloud with any shape
you are anything
Poem #814
her back smiles at me
a sociable expression across the bed
not inviting. but reassuring,
she’s here
a window looking out
at hope;
swelling
in the heat of my smile
she’s tired
but
she’s finally here
Poem #792
sweep me up at the dark beach
I can’t stop smiling
the palpable touch of air heavy with salt
your arms bunching up the folds of my sweater
the feeling that I’m special
I think of you always after dusk
when the breeze is soft
and the light is softer
you remind me of dancing
in my grandma’s yard
on desert nights with wind chimes
and a lovingly watered willow tree
you’d watch me dance
smiling as big as I am
Poem #772
when she gave me the ring,
I squealed for several long minutes
before turning to her and saying seriously:
“you know, I won’t give you my organs
I won’t ever give you my organs
maybe a bit of my liver
if that doesn’t hurt me
but that’s it
I’m sorry”
she smiled and said:
“well, I’m glad you liked the ring”
Poem #762
I live to see your arms in fishnet sleeves
your shoulders peeking through spaghetti strap tank tops
your hair in various stages of decoration
I live for the mole surrounded by the flowers on your leg
your freckles spotting your face
your lips in a sultry pout
most of all though, I live for the calm of your voice
your patience seeping through every bit of you
your humor in a stolen moment
Poem #741 – to my future child
we’re gonna eat green beans and gummy bears
splash in the watery mud after a rain
bundle up for a 20 hour drive to Alaska
I’m gonna tell you how electricity works
the reasons why a budget is necessary
the purpose of air bags and brakes
you’re gonna tell me why you like purple
about the ghost you saw in the middle of the night
how a kid in your class is always talking
we’re gonna giggle while we climb the tree in the yard
argue about the choice of your sock colors
scream as the roller coaster drops
I’m gonna learn how to be patient when you don’t understand
that children are much messier than I thought
why “skinny jeans are so last generation”
you’re gonna learn how to be patient when I don’t understand
when to speak up about what you need
that most things aren’t the end of the world
we’re gonna squeeze each other until someone shouts “uncle”
be equally terrified as you learn to drive
love each other
Poem #715
cry until she screams
she is enraged
heartbroken
powerful
she can do anything
she will show you
Poem #714
I am the ocean
she is the boat
and she is the anchor
I take the boat and anchor everywhere
we explore the world together
hurricanes are inevitable
I am the ocean
she sails into a harbor
and she plummets to the rocky bottom
boat and anchor weather the storm
we set off again
calm waters always return