(no subject)
It's the things we hold onto that have dragged their
toes into the thick earth below.
as i climbed forward,
we paused and watched those stars
within that five month time it tossed
extra weight onto my back
world had a fine way to trip my legs up
to set me down for enough time that i could
regain my step
and then that small added weight, taken and added to
day by day
the sky had made a show for us.
that road stretched its self longer: longer than the moment before
and i licked my fingertip that tasted like salt
and i sunk my boots just deep enough into the mud below
to catch my step, to pick it up again
washed clean in the river bed and saw a newness in your smiling face
with the mixed feel of too long, but too short
to this, i dried my eyelashes to a curl that hit my glasses to read
they did nothing but fog on me
i picked up for another step
hung my hands toward my hips
ears on occasion catch, and I respond with a gingerly skip in step
a recognition glance of a smile
a pace picked up sort of heart race
back up back up to a safe sort of space
the reach you made across that wide table, a wink from a brick wall lean,
a standing cuddle that holds me now, still with you miles away
and I can't but study you: as memory's intense: time wishes to filter it clean
pick me that flower from the highest branch
send your thoughts of me through the crevices of untrained crafted walls
hold my soft skin dear, in your lonely sheets
always keep me in a distant sort of reach
as I train this steady step of this walk away