PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Dating is a question, an if, a, what about?

And if I harbored your pain

I would not use it to burden the beauty of grass.

To be forgotten lilke the casteles kids build on the beach

Where they battle the waves like an indispensable soldier,

Always leaning a bald shoulder into the crash.

If I learned your childhood I would not erase it

With flippant remarks

Or better memories overlapped,

Or pale china I demanded you fill with your equally delicate fingers.

If I sang of your uterus

I promise you

I don't bore rough edges on the pillow

Where I will tell you what I think of the days we've lived separately,

The places we've been, the universe, and God.

There is room for you here as well,

And a life that sprawls out for decades like an open field.

A place for sprinting horses and open air,

And relaxing, and convalescing, and service.

It's as empty as a nether region and not unlike those approaching

  waves

Now that you have made your acquaintance.

A new palace to defend.

An exhilarating effort.

If I drove you I would slowly.

I would tinker faithfully.

And if I sold you it would be at your behest.

You are not utterly foreign.

Your body fits like a puzzle piece in a picture of flowers

Like so many others, but I water you differently

Because of you, brilliant and as bright

As the dying of winter, the birth

Of spring, like a recently carved out poem.

You are not bought or sold.

You are not hired.

You are not lonely now.

Nestle your sins into a box.

I don't need them

And even so, I understand.

Let you become we.  Let we become us.

Let a memory eclipse the winter months

Year after year, until we've built something new.

For if I was an eagle, a bald eagle, I'd sing an allegiance to you

Now that you've come, an open soul,

Typically dressed and missing just one thing.

If it's me I admit I'm missing it, too.