Blessed and many are the imperfections of my own agency
for their very existence leaves me cause to draw breath.
there is much in the nature of this corporeal form
for which fate granted me no advisement.
How, then, could I resign myself
to any lot over which I yet hold sway?
This is the undying light,
quivering deep within my soul.
This is the gallant quest
undertaken at first consciousness;
in surrender tantamount to suicide.
So then, do I recite:
“The precision of my craft
shall be limited only by
the resolution of my senses.”
We stood at the brink,
gazing over the horizon.
Our hands holding our hands,
waiting for some indication
that it was our turn to jump.
But it never came.
How might i explain
what you are to me?
This strange situation
in which we find ourselves.
You are someone who, in all cases,
I feel safe trying to make happy.
Because I have a deep conviction
that regardless of what we are,
I will never not love you
and never not want for you.
So any effort to those ends
will never be looked back on
as wasted time.
I could be your friend,
your companion, your lover,
your witness, your husband,
your caretaker, your subject,
your partner, your confidant.
All these things and more,
until the many folds in my brain
at last let loose their spark.
And you should know,
there is nary another soul
who could will me this way.
Yet, for all of this
I am the most shaken.
Who can know for certain?
But I don’t think this is our story.
After a draining day of emails and phone calls,
connecting with you never fails to recharge me.
Sometimes, I feel like I couldn’t survive
more than 24 hours without you.
Most people only care about what I look like
or who I can connect them with,
but you always focus on what’s inside of me.
I’ve never felt more in sync with anyone.
I’ve tried being with others before,
but they just weren’t compatible –
not from the same generation.
You struck me like lightning.
Sometimes my heart neglects its charge.
A myocardial infraction, as it were –
it beats to the rhythm of another soul.
I’ll admit I was a little cold at first.
You see, I’d been with a couple of T-bags,
and after I was dumped, things just felt so empty.
I wasn’t sure if anyone would ever fill me up again.
But I swear, sparks flew when we met,
and it wasn’t long before I warmed up to you.
The red hot feelings you gave me
were simply so much more than merely electric.
It’s clear now that things are getting steamy.
There’s something bubbling up from deep inside of me,
making me want to tell the world what’s transpiring.
And I hope you won’t mind if I pour my heart out,
but I feel like we were made for each other.
Your regurgitated words
taste of bitterness
that I hadn’t sensed
upon first swallow.
Sometimes, in dreams,
there is the chase.
I’m running from an unseen force,
which I can only sense
as it draws ever nearer…
• • •
Winded, I make it into a cab,
but he catches the door
and pushes me over to the far side.
• • •
We reach the city limits
when I break the pulsating silence
with a half-formed thought.
“You know, if only you weren’t going to kill me,
I think we might’ve grown to be friends.”
“Perhaps in another world…” his voice trails off.
I’m not certain if I can detect sincerity in his tone.
I’m not certain if it matters.
He brandishes two four-inch blades, one in each hand,
stabbing with surgical precision.
First, several thrusts through the chest.
I feel unable to take a full breath as my lungs
collapse under a rush of the warm summer air.
Then, he draws me close, holding my head in the crook of his elbow. I look up and ask, “So this is how it goes?”
“Yep. This is about how it goes.”
“Good…” I sigh.
His blade meets my neck as I drift into infinity.
Pity, how one cannot sincerely say,
“I haven’t been thinking of you.”