Submerged

The decisiveness I lack I make up in dreaming
the ability of my off-sync heart to unscrew your hinges.
I see you better than you see yourself
and I always see me the same: a little abstract
like a pointillist painting from a distance;
the colors are all bleeding together,
into something that could be beautiful if it tried.
I’ve never been known to try
too hard.

I can’t tell you where I’ll be in five years
or five months or five minutes, but I know my heart is nothing
if not potential
like I am waiting to be sprung kinetic
like I am waiting for you to realize I am 75% water; you can drown in me.

National Poetry Month - Day 22

Dear You,
awkwardly standing across the room
your heart is a sabbatical shadow blooming
outwards like a mid-spring cherry blossom. I
am a refugee shipwrecked in your peripheral
a wounded satellite barely keeping orbit. I build beds
waiting for the day you might eclipse me
an outer ring of light, a radiance outpouring
in waves; to drown me.


photo copyright NASA