I wish to press
My very being against you
We know, but we don’t
Strangers, but not so
I crave the nearness of you
And I dare not to care
Time and distance hold nothing on desire.
The universe has careened wrecklesly past hearts
And yet I shall not be torn asunder
To drown in convention
You, this lovely mystery
I implore you
To not think, just do
And find me amongst the sea of many
As my eyes and lips seek you out
I strangely trust in you
And somehow know
You shall not disappoint
The summation of our lives is not built in days ticked off on a calender, or the accumulation of items, but rather the culmination of moments well spent. The ache of many belly laughs, and the starkness of loss. The snap of many lovely mental photographs, and the break of many brittle tears. One should always be in wonder of the depth and breadth of the human heart.
Could one ever dare to hope, that when they have gone to pass, that others shall say in quiet admiration, There was a life well lived! To have sifted through the rubble and still yet found their heart, beating ferociously, ready for the next round, that, that to me, is the mark of greatness. To be so brazen as to soldier on despite the pain, striving for the next bright, bold, brilliant moment to bank deep within ones soul, it is the brass ring, grasp it if you dare.
My dearest of friends once wrote to me ” You have surpassed holding a place in my heart, because hearts are fickle, they can be broken, and each one eventually ceases to be. You have a home in my soul”. Our hearts are both tough and lovely, allow sunshine to stream through it, even when it feels cold and grey, the darkness is temporary, I promise, and your soul shall follow.
Clementine knew that her lipey hips had nearly won her a mouthful of teeth on many a late night after dangling strings at the local yokels, there was the occasional surprise when some skel wasn’t so pickled that he couldn’t tell she was gonna roll him. If it weren’t the sweet talk, she relyed on being scrappy and havin good aim, hell, she had many a shiner in her day to chuckle over, ain’t no shame in that, just testimony.
Sometimes, her anger shone straight through her and punched holes in the sky, and when that happened, the world parted like the Red Sea, NO ONE wanted a piece of that. Other times, it smoldered slowly, like steam rising after an August rain on Georgia asphalt, you could see it, feel it, and get close enough, taste it. She tried years back to reign it in, but it only wrecked her, made her soft and soggy, and she was built for speed, not comfort.
Nah, she knew her cruelty, she got cozy with it, it kept the right ones out.