Feel the plush of my stomach and forget
that words ever
Could you remind me
what it feels like to
the air that comes in April
or to feel the thunder coming
in your knees?
I seem to have misplaced my sensibility.
I read the newspaper on Wednesday nights,
and eat nothing but chocolate for dinner.
Then I weep.
Not because I’m sad-
but because now I know you are.
And I worry that circumstance
will start to get pompous
and chase away all the good things
and all the places we could have been
will become just names
on a map of a state I never knew.
Is it wrong?
Wrong that every time I drive in the rain
I think of you?
It reminds me of
And I don’t think there are any words
that could express
just how perfect
you made my life in that moment-
Even though I was
failing math and
fighting mom and
completely wrong in every sense of the word-
sometimes, forgetting about everything else
is okay. And
sometimes, doing the wrong thing
for the right reasons
is better than pretending it would
And I’m still not sure
if the way I felt was
something I should consider
and try to grasp.
Those feelings were like humidity-
sticky and strange
and they engulfed my lungs
and my skin stayed soft
and I curled my hair every day-
Just for you.
I don’t know if I could grasp it even
if I tried.
I need things to solidify first.
And yes, I am well aware-
that makes me a terrible lover,
one hell of a puzzle.
But just imagine it
as it was-
and sunlight breaking through blinds
and the Black Keys moaning
(as I was)
and just this terrible feeling-