If I ever needed proof
that there is more to life than this body
that talking is more than from our mouths,
more, even, than found in our touch

You think I’m far,
that we don’t speak much,
that I’m “the prodigal daughter,”
that I didn’t want or take as much from you as did your sons.

But I’ve never told you

I went through his social media
archives the other night
I don’t know why I didn’t
think to do that before

We went to the woods
and had a bonfire of words
burned it all to the ground
everything we’d built

She is still
here.
Everywhere.

I’m not here for you
to teach me like the others

Though I am learning
like lightning about

I watch you walk away
with short strides, posters
and supplies thrust under your arm

I don’t wish them to be,
but I welcome the scuffs
and stains and scratches
on beloved items in my home.

My writing shrinks, cramps,
slants like a sailboat
tipping in the wind

I don’t want to put 5
more cents in the meter
just to hear you lie again

They say there are two sides 
to every story, but I think 
it’s more like a Rubik’s cube.

Beach walk debating
when soul enters the body
at heartbeat or birth

I dreamt we were in a plane crash
but we didn’t die
The pilot announced halfway to doom
that he wouldn’t give up

Last week was
our Indian summer

when I chose to
believe you were true

You’ve stuck me in this
maybe

halfway between believing you
but believing myself more

How strange it is to be with someone,
to hold each other tightly,

to feel safe in his arms and

the ease of home when I see him,

You’re on something.
Tonight. Now. Again.
You think I can’t tell.
You think you’re hiding it.

In the sea of moments that made up our
two days - or two hours or two lifetimes,
it’s hard to say what time passed -

Your infinity is music.
Mine is moving mountains,

making miracles, 

for the ones I love.

I don’t like calling you that.
So I “forget” sometimes.
Or assume people will know what I mean.