Monday, May 31, 2010

i'm not a poet, i just see the poem.

I wish you could see her:
dawn, broken into the room,
the pools of sunshine
beginning to collect in the corners.

sleep, still hanging in the air
countless thoughts
unspoken
understood
unable to fathom a way
to fix the world she lives in.

hoping i can at the least
fix the one she dreams in.

little cotton panties,
whisper secrets i shouldn't be hearing
under the cover
of an over-sized shirt.
i can see
the bones of her shoulders,
the swell of her back
curving to the small.

even in such a gown
she looks as elegant
and beautiful as any woman could
wearing the finest dress and minted shoes.

hair as beautiful off the pillow
as it is any other time,
it harvests the sunlight like wool
and burns its glow red
shaming the world with its brilliance.

a sad gaze, a smile
a tear.
tenderly gripped heartbeats to help me face the day

even though the pain is overwhelming,
knowing i have to share this smile,
this embrace,
knowing secrets only someone else should hear:
it is worth bearing.

for all the weight
for all the struggle
there is nothing i can say
there is nothing i can scream
there is nothing i can exclaim

to show the veracity for which i can endure
for the sake of her love.