Love is Not

Love is not miniscule agreements
But it is simple understanding
That I will meet you, if you meet me
No matter where we're standing

Love can't be performed for me
There is no list of how to do
It's someone lost and someone worried
You find me, and I'll find you

Call it Home

What does it take to own
a space? How do you create
something tangible out of
an idea? Do I change it?
Rearrange the furniture
and fence in the perimeter?
I like to remember those
ladies of my youth, who
couldn't see things they
didn't own. They stood in
crowds with ease and
belonged, no not belonged,
controlled. This was their audience,
to gaze at their poise,
to wonder at their confidence.
And, noone ever questioned
their validity in this space,
their ownership of it.

Youth Aflame

These years are written
in the sand, right on water's edge.
It is late nights, before
the tides rush in, before
the sun burst open
to reveal us. It is here,
in the darkness, where we find
each other and ourselves.
Sometimes I get nervous,
I see that the vastness
of water nipping at our scripts,
and I wonder of the future
of this. But, then I see your face,
all of you, burning smiles and
half shut eyes. That's what youth is,
burning. Written on parchment
and thrown into hot coals,
our skin slowly browns and withers,
but we go on burning.

What happened to the world,
while I laid by your side?
While you laid in my arms?
Because I felt still,
I felt you, just you.
Did the stars roll over
us? Where was the sun?
All I saw were these eyes,
dark, watchful eyes.
Is the world spinning,
or is it just our bed?

When You Look At the Sunrise

When you look at the sunrise
It's the same picture that I see
The same orange nectars fill me
I'm warmed by its outstretched arm
And the thought of you
This all feels like holiness
Purity in so many shades or red
Burning the sky in hot anticipation
Recreating what was the night
Bursting open to a clean morning
A day that would bring me to you
And we are connected
When you look at the sunrise

Sweetness

It's blury
But I remember the feeling
The feeling there
With you
I remember the sounds
The giggling
The music of it
Us between the sheets
Us dancing in the smell
A familiar smell
Our smell
I remember the haziness
The dizzy spinning
I remember spinning
And not moving
I remember the taste
The sweetness
I remember the sweetness

Liberation

Where does your exhale end
and my gasp for air begin?
Dawn's about to burst open,
and I'm uncertain who is me.
Our love in water color,
we bleed together until I'm lost,
until this picture is confusing.
I feel safe in this space,
because how could you leave it?