"A Meditation on LOVE and quite possibly FALLING to my untimely death."
I
think you know this already but,
I
overcomplicate love.
It’s
the scientific mind exploring the vast reaches of the inner galaxy.
Needing
definition,
In
every alien thought, every gravitational opinion,
And
every minute, molecular feeling.
The
immeasurable scares the hell out of me,
Like
those dreams where I’m falling,
Plummeting
stomach first into infinity,
And
my damn wings won’t work.
Love.
Maybe it’s simple.
Maybe
it’s as simple as how,
Even
the most expensive coffee tastes lifeless and bland,
Until
I drink it with you.
Or
how when you taste whiskey and cigarettes on my lips,
You
don’t pull away.
Or
how washing dishes has become my favorite past time,
Because
it means we just ate your latest culinary experiment,
And
my belly is full,
And
my dogs aren’t barking,
And
I got to hear all about your life blooming,
In
my work day’s absence.
Love.
Maybe
it’s simple.
Maybe
it’s as simple as when,
We
drove from Mobile to Los Angeles,
Two
thousand miles on endless concrete,
Over
desert sand,
Rolling
pasture,
And
sticky bayou,
Both
of us too stubborn to stop,
Until
our empty stomachs raised their white flags.
You
pointed to shapes in the clouds,
And
uncovered beauty that my eyes ignored,
Imagining
adventure in every sleepy town,
Squealing
in excitement with every roaming livestock,
And
trying desperately to keep your phone steady,
As
you took pictures of vagabond sunsets
In
search of their own zip codes.
Love.
Maybe
it’s simple.
Maybe
it’s as simple as when,
You
cradled my head in your arms,
Sitting
on top of your lavender-scented bed spread,
As
I wept for my best friend Jon,
Who
died much too cruelly,
And
much too young,
My
tears washing away any shred of bravery,
Any
semblance of strength,
Any
pretence of understanding the cold darkness in my heart.
You
never met him,
But
you stroked my hair until I feel asleep,
Honoring
him until the keening trailed off into,
A
still moment of shared life.
Love.
Maybe
it’s simple.
Maybe
its as simple as when,
I
didn’t write,
Unintentionally
digging deep into your scar,
And
you responded in kind.
The
powder keg goes off and we burn together,
As
I hate you and you hate me,
And
you’ve smashed every plate on the ground,
And
I’ve crushed every knuckle on the wall,
Stopping
only to realize the wholeness of our brokenness.
Then
with the wounds open,
We
heal.
We
mend the brokenness to realize our wholeness.
And
the lights in the night sky seem to burn even brighter than before.
Love.
Maybe
it’s simple.
Maybe
it is as simple as,
When
I met your brother,
Who
sees the world differently than anyone else.
His
special heart shaped by his special needs,
Rocking
back and forth,
Smiling
with glee,
As
he laughed at the world’s jokes,
That
we’ve somehow all missed.
And
as you fed him Cheetos,
Wiping
orange spit from his mouth,
And
playing with his hair,
I
saw the green in your eyes glow with pride,
Like
the sun bouncing off a field of grass,
Transforming
into a warm emerald blanket,
That
seemed to envelop all three of us.
Love.
Maybe it really is that simple.
So this is me, flipping that switch,
Cutting that cord,
Crushing that cricket.
This is me throwing a pipe bomb at my brain,
Into the part that needs to:
Reason, reckon, delineate, and define.
This is me swan diving into infinity,
Plummeting heart first,
And hoping beyond all hope,
That my fucking wings work.
All I know is from now on,
With you,
I’m keeping love simple.
