It’s a Given

It’s got to be summer.
The windows are down.
“Chicken Fried”
or “Brown Eyed Girl”
or something that is
irrevocably
warm, wind-in-air
plastered smiles,
hands raised through a
sun roof
good
is playing off the radio.

This is my version,
so we’re driving down the Causeway.
And the reeds are whipping
to and fro
and your fingers are locked with mine
hand is raised to your lips,
because you know I like that.
And you let me sing,
you smile when I dance in the passenger seat.

We hit the bridge
the same time as the chorus.
I look out over the river
I’ve grown up
and around
and between from
and thank God for the marshland.
Thank God for the tiny hometown
where I spent summers feeding ducks,
writing on the porch swing,
letting the sun kiss me in all the places
you will touch so tenderly.

And when we reach the curb at my mom-mom’s,
you walk around the car,
open my door
and start singing to me,
as I lead you down the street,
past my church,
holding your hand,
taking you through my childhood,
enjoying a summer day,
realizing love can be
warm, no traffic,
fireflies at the first sign of dusk,
laughter in the
moon light
good.

GSA:

God had a reason for you coming back into my life: some kind of life lesson. Even if it wasn’t what I hoped for.

 Even if we are left farther from each other than we were before.

Maybe this time is to let the illusion of you go. Maybe this time is knowing you don’t want me when you could easily have me and realizing

I deserve so much more.

Future Realities

“Lovely”
like a stain on your lips
that doesn’t come from kisses.
Like the first ray of sunshine
that signals spring.
Like believing this life is not the end,
like hoping for bliss.
Like kindness.

“Lovely”
like a sugar rush.
Like constant laughter
running like light
through an open floor plan.
Like children falling to the floor,
rolling on their backs and giggling.
Like sanded furniture.
Like wild flowers,
fresh flowers
springing from every crevice.

“Lovely”
like silence,
like an honest promise,
one that’s kept.
Like moments where it is you
and God
and the birds singing on the window
ledge,
and maybe you’re in that townhouse
or that cottage
but you’re smiling easier
and in awe of the littlest of things
like the way ice cube press together,
share space with tea
with citrus
with everything that represents simplicity.

“Lovely”
like possibility.
Like this life you’re living,
like what the future could hold.

“Lovely”
like waking up
and realizing
this world
is your dream.

When the “Best” Comes Pt. 1

It will be something simple like:
we will dance
in the kitchen,
and I’ll be cooking something edible.
And you will hold me from behind
still swaying to the music playing off
of whatever medium it comes through.
Our shoes will be kicked off
and the table will be set
and there will be a vase full of
lily of the valleys or hydrangeas
or peonies
and from the window,
light will stream in.
I will sit across from you
in our dining room,
we will join hands and
thank God for the food,
for this life,
for everything that aligned
just the way He wanted it, too.

Dear Future Love,

You have
five o’clock shadow
like sunset on your jawline,
like constellations peppering your chin in moonlight,
like letting the morning kiss your skin
and hairs stand on end
just so when your face brushes mine
it burns in a way
that I grow to like.

Because it’s not a forest fire kind of love,
it’s something subtle
and natural
like waking up to a new start,
a way to change yourself between
cleanliness
and grit.
Like we may never be perfect,
but our bed head and morning breath
is entirely worth it.

And God knows,
the last thing we need is
another love poem,
but let me say,
because of you
and what you will show me,
this love will be,
this world is
a more beautiful place.

On Days like Today 

Tell her:
I will hold you
until the sun falls out of the sky.
I know your soul
is only comfortable
in the darkness and I am
okay with perpetual night.

I will love you
even if we don’t make light.
I will love you
even if I can’t see the sparks
fly.

I will love you
in the endless blackness
that I’m willing to risk
for just a moment
where your life and mine
combine.

I will love you
openly,
even if it means I can only parade you
under moon shine.

Sunlight Sedation

It is the way
you kissed my palms
like they had been holding
all of your oxygen
for the last two months;
pulling up the hem of my T-shirt
and reminding my stomach
with your mouth
how worthy it is
of worship,
of mercy.

You will never be
a new religion to me:
but rather a louder way to love.
You will be my reminder
of daily grace.

Because as your lips met my skin,
my eyes were wrinkling themselves
into two old maids
laughing in rockers
on the front porch of
their country house in the summer.
Two windows
squinted like they were staring
at the sun.,
not caring if they were blinded
in happiness.

Like love never left;
like the splinters of hurt and
regret remained in my heart
only so
when the time was right,
I could re-make them into a door jam.

It’s like saying your name,
missing how much
my lips
pursed at the “shh”,
and now, not wanting
to be quiet
about this.