Erasing

Twelve little houses,
All in a row,
Comprise a semi-circle
Like the half-moon

That graced the quiet

Hours we spent

Awake in

Open air

The night previous.

Looking up,

Grounded in body,

Unbounded in mind,

My view has widened.

The hands aren’t yours

and I feel bad,

and I feel proud,

Because I like that

So soon.

And I’ve lost you,

And your sour tequila,

And your ache-y records,
And the poison

You breathe at night.

Your gravity,
So grave a weight,
Settles in each time
It falls silent
For a moment.

Although it's only a moment,
I wish the grass
Might swallow me
Entirely.

I wish to sink away
And reside here
Beneath the waves.
Woken gently
By a subtle
Streaming sun,
In the forgiving air.

I feel your grip
For a terrifying moment
But the salt and the stars
Whisk it away
Just as quickly
As it came

I now know,
The panic

You instilled

Is no longer
My present tense.

I promise

I won't erase you,

But I cannot promise
You residence
In my mind
Any longer,

Finally I must assert myself.
And you will accept my refusal.

Your oppressive hold
Has been replaced
By some disembodied
Gentle hand,
Shifting a thumb
Across my palm.

I could not see
Who exactly they
Belonged to,
These caring,

worthy eyes,
Shining bright
And sympathetic
And honest.

But I could see
They were waiting
For me;
They are in

My someday.
When I am ready
To return their
Thoughtful gaze.

I saw into these eyes
And I hoped they'd belong
To someone full of light
Possessing a fascination in her heart,
But hope is so grave a danger,
So slippery a slope.
Too terrifying and deceptive an art.

Still,
You will be a whisp

Of who I once was
And I shall reconstruct
Myself
Of newfound,
Thriving,
Unimpeded
Hope.

2012