I Am Surprised By The Softness And The Intimacy Of This Moment I Had Expected Your Skin To Have Thickened

I am laying in the tall grass On a cloudy afternoon The air is still, The grass does not blow In the wind or on a breeze

It is quiet, the birds are quiet There is an ant crawling On my arm, there is a Cottontail munching on Nearby dandelions

The gray clouds are peaceful They don't promise rain Now there is also a Small beetle on my shirt They are claiming me, these bugs

They are accepting me into their World of the tall grass Where the rabbits and moles live Where life is slower I will go inside later

All lights are fireworks Since we made permanent July. Whether sunshine Or warm showers My rain, my sky, It's a permanent July.

In these darker days Bloom yellow roses I've grown for you In secret gardens. Still I can't explain just why Each new month is still July.

Your earth is warm, It melts my snow, My rocks and stones Make roads for you. Sit with me, watch all pass by, In our private, permanent July.

A little nature once in a while To break the trend of Love and other inward feelings

Show me a canyon Not that one, not the grand one Show me a regular canyon With water still flowing through

Show me the red of its walls Like a prehistoric mural Of erosion and persistence

Nature moves on, you know This earth shrugs us off We destroy it and it destroys us Nature breaks us all down

I, who speaks often But says much of nothing I, who pictures the words That do not come out That stumble over My tongue and teeth My brain a stuttering Then silent and empty

I will my words into being In a moment's pause In the quiet of the writing When my mind races And I can catch my thoughts I send you my voice You, who reads me You, who's eyes Pass over my letters

I, who does not screech Like the hawk in the sky Nestle my meanings in The wanderings of creatures In the sun and the trees They, who speak The same language as me Who might interpret while I am just talking to you

Make me a home inside you Build me a room With a lock and a key That you keep on a chain Around your neck

I have been a wandering soul But cage me and keep me With fire and fervor I am yours, I am yours In this room you are mine

Make me a home inside you Build me a room Of blackest obsidian For I am molten I could so easily melt you

I saw you when the sun went down There was a spark You saw me as the night came We saw each other in the dark

Maybe we hesitated for a moment For hands to hold Finally when they touched There was a jolt

You and me and an abandoned place An apartment high in the city In a blacked out world The roofs gray and gritty

But you laid your palm on mine And the current flowed Through our fingertips and wrists Our arms began to glow

In an older kind of world You and I were electric Before we were drawn together We never knew we kept it

As our hands lit up our faces I kissed you on the lips We shocked our hearts so hard The current slightly tripped

The people down below us murmured As our light grew and grew I think your eyes were just as bright As mine were for you

When you kissed me back We shook the floors Trembling in the building Rattling all the doors

The people started running Some yelling up the stairs But neither of us heard them We were both unaware

Surrounded in a shield of power Afraid we might explode You squeezed my hands as we burst Away on our currents we rode

Without reading any of my written words Is it possible to truly know me? Mind musings, soul serenades This feels like the only accurate, undiluted Version of my being

If you've never met my body Maybe you know me better than most Or maybe to know me is reading both Poetry being the translation of my body language Into my mother tongue

So I'll lay my words down delicately, intentionally Hoping you see them A dialect spoken just between us Yes, you would know me I think you could know me entirely this way

Your mind is a carousel Of recycled thoughts Cyclical relapses Up and down Between your Rejected horses You are continuously Bouncing backwards And I'm not along For the ride

What do the living Do with the dead? What do we do?

What do we do when Someone vanishes?

What do the living Do when consumed With such a void? Death Is for the living

I'm Unable To say what I mean because The words are all Lodged in my throat But whoa! So suddenly They're spilling out wildly In a long, incoherent ramble