VERSE | IF I COULD

If I could live another life with you 
I’d talk of a few more things
More palpably, more honestly with you
Of things that gnawed
At my mind; at the way my gut wrenched
Balling up inside, or even when
The pit of my belly dissolved
In a fluttering crush of butterflies
I’d speak of love light-footed and pure
The kind that knocks you to the floor
And the next instant pins shimmering wings
On your tingling spine so you can fly
High high, breath-catchingly high!

I’d talk of heartbreaks too
That shred the organs into little bits
Where the pain ripples in screaming peals
My thoughts marking time with the cacophony
Where I stumble on my own feet
Where I want to just lie down and feel
Nothing for a while
I’d share secrets that I have held deep inside
Now frozen, frigid, petrified
Mute scars of speechless agonies
Never named, never identified

I’d also tell you that I loved
My quiet, my solitude
When it was just me in my room
Or just you and me
Sipping tea
In the lounge, watching tv
And then I’d tell you about the things
That would make my tone-deaf heart sing
A constant humming underneath
Beneath the sheath of my skin
Of peace that was soothing, softening
Of flame-bright hope and quiet joy

I’d talk to you
Of beginnings and of endings too
Some tragic some tender
Of sometimes going under
But always re-surfacing, I would
Talk of spirituality, the ethereal kind
That makes the hair stand on end
The kind that quickens your breath
That makes life and even death
A fleeting, splendorous enterprise
A mystical trip with no finish line

And when your time here or mine
Was drawing to a close
Together we would
Strum those notes
One last time
Of all the things that we’d talked about
And all the times that we had spent
And then I’d have held your hand in mine
We would have laughed and we would have cried
And we would have laughed again
Because nothing would have been left
Unsaid, unfelt at the end.
Image: Cathy Jacobs

VERSE | WORDS

Each time I put them away
In some silent corner of my being
Locked away
So they don’t rear
Their grief-gorged heads
When it’s not their time
Nor their day

And then you begin
A conversation
Those things I’ve been meaning to say
Rattle the locks that hold them at bay
I let them out
They race for my heart
My eyes smart

They scratch their way
To my mouth
I let them out
Hesitating with every one
That escapes
Wrapping itself around your shoulders
In a hug, a tortured embrace

Waiting for you
To look at them, feel their grain
Their pain, hear their refrain
They float around waiting for you
You turn away
Their ragged breaths
Steam up the pane

They quiver
In a final thrum of hope
Fallen, on the ground they grope
For a sliver of faith
But you turn away
Unhearing, unseeing
They disintegrate
Into nothingness around your feet.
Image: Jhon