I wanted to ‘write write’

but a poem will suffice –

I can play with the words

move them around my plate

and not take them so seriously

this way

just a few throwaway lines

little strands

that capture how I stand

the way I stand

in this love

this love I chose to stand for

just before my hand

reached out for yours

standing and bowing

choosing and allowing

this choicelessness

is not voicelessness

it’s a deep sigh

and a descent

into choosing what’s

meant for us

outside the world is falling

and so are we, darling

and, lord, you’re shattering me

in ways I thought I’d never let

another shatter me

my fault –

I asked for this, clearly

a couple of moons ago

not knowing my spell

was such

a good one

not knowing YOU were such a good one

until I could see you

finally

with unclouded eyes

and every day you’re a surprise

as the layers I’ve cloaked you in

fall away

with the tender touch of my

understanding

yet every day I find you standing

still a mystery

and my heart bleeding open

at your feet

and fuck you, I’m writing poetry to you now

and fuck you, what the hell has happened to me?

and fuck you, I’m committed to this thing

which you haven’t asked for

and I haven’t wanted

but it’s as clear as moonlight

that I’m committed to this thing

that’s beyond you

and through you

and IS you, as well

(in case I try to skip that last part

which I would of course.)

daily I’m humbled

by the sight of me

by the slightest bits of me

magnified to be seen

and all the space between

me

and every other human

is filled with love’s breath

so clearly

seeing myself now

with unbridled eyes

and falling in love with us both –

reality check.

you leave. I stay.

the sun has shone on

darker days.

I’m unbothered, as usual,

but in a different way.

I fall through

this inevitable parting

into something old

and something new

past walls built

from the same bricks as mine

passed the shards of

a hundred shattered hearts

scattered through time

I hate to say

I’ve met my match in you

but god, it’s true.

and I am

hopelessly

devoted

hemorrhaging

adoration

vainly attempting a bit

of goddamn subtlety

but, none,

so to be clear,

I’m not going anywhere

my dear.

we’re falling in time

and underneath is

the low

primordial hum

of our destiny

while up here

we are polyrhythmic

separately unified

I am not

the drummer

you are not

the drummer

I am the beat and

you are the beat

melting into

the heartbeat

of the artist

in between.