Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Love Boat 3/30

Photobucket

I have a love boat that’s built for two
Painted with the white of your eyes.
It’s cozy. Like sitting in an embrace
with arms of twine and trunk. Unpolished
like the lovely of you.

I ain’t no carpenter. Cant wood work
acceptance. Don’t know exactly how
to shape rustic into a haven.
Packed the bow with mud and twigs
and bits of beauty.

I give you ocean. The only way
I know how. In the bottom of a
wooden boat…Making our bed
On the peak of a wave.

Would you still have gotten in
if you knew there were no life
jackets for love...boats? Stop
searching for the shore.
I promise I won’t play the tippy
test with your heart.

Untitled 2/30

Sometimes I wish
caring was seasonal.
That I could pack away
the feeling that wells
up in my chest. Feels like
inhale before explosion.
Fold tears, like sweaters
into plastic bins.
Label cardboard boxes
of worn apologies
“for the salvation army.”
Won’t need to wear
remorse during the spring.
Cleaning my tongue
of dusty words
misplaced after the wrong
sentence went running
through the loose gate
of my mouth. Nonchalance
blossoming in my smirk.
Spitefulness collects like
Early morning dew
on my lips. But
an untamed mouth
is dangerous. And actions
that go unconsidered
are deadly to the conscience
Reconciliation always satisfies
when ripe and pressing
against the odds.
I can’t imagine
a handful of months
waiting impatiently
for fields of red
and purple horizons
that come from
making up
just before
bed.