My Man Oh My Oh Me

I find myself here, alone in body, and your name sounds like a horn. I busy myself with jewelry and things, try to focus on the tangible: the knobby carpet on my toes, the smell of a shirt, the grinning lamp. But as my eyes begin to lid I am flustered by a stirring like dry leaves, small shards that once thrived, green, in my mind. The mind loves powerfully, only kept alive by the mechanical motion of the heart.

You stir in me and art again has meaning, beauty has purpose. You and I, the fire, the whiskey, the dawn through the stained glass. We drag a chair across the floor to sit in the light. My dress is periwinkle, not black. You look at me, I love how you look at me. You say it's my eyes, for me it is all of you, a man like I've never seen one. Oasis child, born into a man, don't I know you better than the rest? I shake and I am not scared. I jump at your hands and the falling coals in the fireplace. I know this sunrise will end but I dive into the days, the weeks, with eyes closed and hands tied.

When I hear those songs again, I feel choked with need. Never glancing back, I am being pushed and prodded forward to find you tomorrow. Ever since our hands shook, I am carried, a doll in a curious child's hand. I have things to share with you: the songs I promised, our shared sadnesses, the deep joy I find in you. I will burrow in your heart, where you thought nothing could root, I will warm you and rock you gently. I have the antidote to your fears, I am not those things. I am breathing, swallowing the need, and attempting to accept the silence you have given to me.

I promise, we will never grow old.

22 February 2013