When in doubt, weather the storms
Whether or not they come to you,
In the deepest and darkest of still nights-
Or if you seek them out in the twilight . . .
You’ll be better off for it,
All steadfast and breathless—
As you mine silent along the core,
And climb knee-deep in your wildest fears.
Last year in a full-skirted moment,
I sang much too loudly the songs I knew,
As I traveled long steep slopes of wonder—
And came out the other end a lover in the fog.
Sometimes I dance along the fringes of youth,
Other moments are mired in passings of childhood-
And still, the shadows and longings stay unbridled,
Somber and allusive as well, but never distant.
Tomorrow, the winds may blow me onward,
Toward stretched-out skies of forever poems
And maybe, even you—may ask me once again,
If I remember the first time I touched your man-cheek.
Fallen not so into love but away from sadness,
I let myself go in the presence of your quiet.
As you watch the moon tides with a boyish gleam
And all that I want to is hear you breathe.
Now that another summer is gone,
I yearn for morning and night to last long
To bask in dew-sprouted love making,
In both the glow of bird-songs and moonlight.
Yet when you glanced at my hair, tousled and free,
It seemed noon forever, and the weather turned sad
As I pulled at your man-sweated shoulders,
To face me while I danced your favorite rhythms.
But I know all the seasons of being,
The rising tides always forgive as much
So I raised my legs and hands more bright,
Even though you left so somber, I had my own song.
Never mind the pixelated critics, I roar,
Now is time I to smell my own scent
In the stillness and deafening cries of sweet,
And in the frailty of wonder I only know as one.
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Ed: Bryonie Wise
Photo: Marianna Armata on Pixoto.