tell me what you thought about when you were gone…

i’m the original grass

that wasn’t green enough

and i don’t understand

why you’re singing

one of my favorite songs

but you’re still sleeping

away from home

two nights a week

i’m not the one

and you’re never in love

i’m never honest

and she’ll never be enough

every other line

is a lie

and i’m still broken

still in love

with a backpack full

of bricks

waiting for you

and i to lay them down

growing and stoping and going

this one ive used often
in poems letters journals
but today i dont know how

j gave you a snap pea
you ate half offered half to t
he didnt want it

you said no thank you
when he handed it back
said youd eaten enough vegetables today

i sort of laughed
t gave me the pea
i almost ate it

but then i wondered
if that would be weird
for you at least

because your mouth touches hers
and other things
not just mine any more

this isnt about a brick at all
but still distance
maybe we can close the gap with gardens

*In response to Brick.

Hey Jude and a Tattoo

We used to walk on eggshells around each other,
but I think we’re learning that our footsteps can be a little heavier.
If it’s trust we’re building
with the bricks from your wall,
then we’ll turn my paper one
into a kite, like sparrows’ wings.
We’ll fly it on the beach someday
and our souls can make love in the ocean.
Remember the sand
that got everywhere we didn’t want it to go?
On days when it’s easy,
I forget why it was ever difficult.
Tell me a story
and I’ll sing you a song.
It’s been too long since we left our hearts open.
Say the word and I’m yours.