Tag: poetry

This is my curse.
I will love you over and over again
Take one life’s worth of love
Build upon it a thousand more
And I will fill myself of you

Until I break at the seams

But you will not remember

And I will regret.

We searched for each other
in the most unlikely places,
among the most unlikely people,

and when our paths finally crossed,
it was for reasons so entangled
in our daily bread,
and the usual trespasses

that we might not even have noticed,
except for that faint quiver of wonder
like a passing chill from the night air.

We loved

and the closest we’ve come to explaining why,
is because it was you,
and because it was I.

I was on fire
and you used me
to light your cigarette

I pretend I don’t love it
when you hold my hand in public,
when you catch a wild hair in the net of your fingers,
when you kiss me right in front of the gas station cashier.

I remember we live in a big city.
I secretly imagine the scandal we could cause
if we lived in a small town, where everyone knew your name
and your bed: how our love would spill like paint cans
across old wooden porches. It would seep
between the cracks of the floorboards,
the way I live beneath your fingernails
when you go home to her.

We are sticking the undertow of teeth into the night as morning undresses us slowly
we kings of cosmopolitan love and
princes of nihilistic suffering
we are tragedies we wish we never spoke of
we will not be the cashed-bowl
breaking-synapse story of unreciprocated love
they are beyond us
there are many broken bedfellows to see when we lay down and love for each other.