your magesty

the wind it whipped it
the low arching branches
sag and heave
ready to sleep
bare boned and raw
yet we caught it
before the leaves dropped
just as they curled into themselves
saving their warmth

so we cut the branches down
one for you
one for me
and you bent yours around
a leafy willow moon
that you placed on my head

a crown for a queen you said
as you leaned down to meet me

so i worked your moon in my hands
waxing it with care
for your own crown was as full as my heart
was with love

and we walked as if we had our land
arms locked - crowns alike
we danced through the city streets
and granted wishes to all who passed by

lucid

i see you in the fog
clinging to the tree tops,
their leaves all fire and flame
your white body soft,
it simply rests on their shoulders
yet when you see me pass by
you just tug their tips
and the embers rain down,
dying and infinite

in the presence of a stranger

I cried

talking about unrequited love
your old lover
my failures and wounds

my wish to have been honored
to have been given the gift
of truth
and respect

the tears streamed down my face
hot in the already warm room
the rug underfoot was a south west sunset
one which we saw together
now my tears wet it
extinguished its fire

At that moment I paused
my wavering voice
filled the room
yet the heat from my wet eyes
made the space seem quiet

I finally looked at this strangers face
and realized she had tears in her eyes too -
for I was at the point in the story where I said

"I just want love and I want truth
and I want to be treated with kindness...
but that's not what has ever happened
and now I have to deal with it all again,
broken and alone"

her kind face crumpled in sadness and I fell apart
I rested my head back and let the tears
stream down my neck and into my hair

in just under an hour
I described the struggle of childhood
the abuse as a teenager
and the tender love
that has just unraveled
in my heart

all in the presence of a stranger

ice house

we have built our home on a block of ice
only to watch it melt
our bodies slipping into its muddy underneaths
and shivering from the slow transition


I

this evenings walkings brought me
down alleyways of bursting flowers
the unripe blackberries
never crushed under hot tongues
grasses still green
and dry land soon to be winter moistened

II

the structure began to crack
all those months ago
imperceptible hairline fractures
shifting the view from eachothers eyes
and our feet began to get cold
our soles growing flaky peeling and cracked

III

the mud has stained everything
the mixture of ice and water and dirt
up to our thighs
smeared on our backs when we decide
that we want our bodies to lay together
to rest in the sludge and dream

IV

i sit in these same clothes
from the last 3 days
with the dried thickness on my sleeves
the smell of the earth drying on the fibers
and in my hair
the mud dries out our skin
and we tear off layers of it
in a vain attempt to make it all go away

V

we may find another structure
to build it on again
but i will remember that building such a thing -
upon the solid of a liquid
or the ephemera of a moment
will always lead to the landslide
of heart heat and feeling
that will wash us both away
and wash us far apart

these old lines feel new

i havent slept for days now
getting anxious on my own
feeling trapped inside
the same old things
same old routine
the same old schemes

attach/abandon

habitual
boiled over
incorporated

a pattern
like a well worn trail
the ruts of a much traveled dirt road

the severing of ties
a reluctance of closeness
hoping for a new life alone

sends the ball down the track
around the bend at fear
bumping the corner of loneliness
back to the beginning with more force
you will leave
i will be alone

to stop the ball
and erase the track
remold the schema

lets work together -
you and me
all of us

reshape the blueprints
of our expectations
and the fears that bring us
crashing down

the real (this is the story of how I've come to realize that I wasn't me)

a smile curled on your face
a goofy wave of your hand
our laughter spilling out
a warm surge in my heart

I'm here
this is who I am
this is really me
the real me
(and you think - "she's being really nice, im not sure about this")

that is sad.
because I do have compassion for you,
a compassionate love that lends you my hand
my help, my care and love.

When I slip back into forgetting the real -
I go back to the anger
or the anger that makes it -
perpetuates the unreal

Each night we've climbed into bed
held each other for the thousandth time
and dreamt,
our arms and legs
wrapped within and around

Im grateful for these nights
for the crackle of the fire
the streaming of the hot water
down our backs
the tea kettle whistle in the early dawn
and just being near.

this is me, nate
the real me
I am good.
I love.
laugh.
care.

and Im sorry again,
( the unreal )
yelling
pushing
crashing-

this into darkness

when we actually shine a light of our own,
(that shouldn't be dimmed)
and I hope that you feel it

And hope that Im not just a place to stay-

an old lover hotel

please!

Im more than that.

My love is real
and so am I.