A History of Loss
Seasons
come with rain,
come without.
The silence,
the stunning hope,
the branches fallen
from a storm
that were cleaned up
and hauled off.
The Size of a Blueberry
The soft beat
of a blueberry
when it falls
to the earth
versus
the vacant
silence
on the body’s
pavement when
it’s suddenly
gone.
Unknown
I am walking through
the frozen fields of myself
where I find you
on the other side
of a steel door.
If love were a substance
it couldn’t reach you here.
Only what remains when
love is stripped of touch.
The Soul Doesn’t Start at the Body
The secret: love is bodilessly
(the soul doesn’t start at the body).
The murmur here is like the moving air
left behind starlings.
They are using a tongue
so huge, it will break you
until you don’t miss it.
Five Hearts
Tragedy and love
are filled
with the same
relentless,
predictable
wildness.
Body Broke
The light
in my
body
broke
and the
darkness
changed
me
into
someone
that
could
heal it.
Heart-Shaped Things
A shape
that forms from
your deep wilderness.
It’s not just your uterus.
Your mind,
your fear too
is heart-shaped.
Does that change
how the darkness moves,
how the light?
The Incalculable
Dolor
like love
can be
as infinite
as energy
moving from
one form
to the next.
The Body Remembers
The body becomes the alarm
it has to become. It draws
a map as it wanders.
It will remember that it
was crushed, and that it healed.
Pieces of Your You
The moon
plummets
with pieces
of your you
into some
infinite
elsewhere