I was going to post a post about AWP, but seeing as I posted once yesterday and tweeted constantly for five days about the conference i figured I’d give you guys a break. Here’s a poem I wrote in Chicago.
We sit at other ends of the room.
Our throat en flamed with honest things
to say, but we breathe in lies and wallow
where the real things are.
Can you imagine if we had never held hands
in highway gardens- chandelier-like street lights
guiding our way home? If breaking hearts is
our agenda then let us fracture our cores
and tear apart. But could you believe your eyes
if you never saw mine gleam with yearning
in a half-lit room? Our bodies still hot from our loving
and our lungs lusting for breath- your scent still
lingers on my sheets and your touch on my hands.
But if it’s time to walk away then let us not tread our feet
or scar our minds with bittersweet memories, but we wore
ourselves down and can you imagine that there’s nothing