To Whom it May Concern

I.

 

To Whom it May Concern:

It has come to my attention that you cannot leave me alone �"

not that I’m complaining.  It’s just that my attention span has been waning

and I’m a little concerned

that things in my life other than you might not be getting the attention they rightly deserve �"

not that I’m complaining.  I’m simply saying maybe you should stop

hanging

around in my headspace,

maybe try actually

talking

touching

knowing me

for a change

of pace.

A chance

would be nice.

 

 

II.

 

To Whom it May Concern:

The two solar flares in your face left spots in my vision.

If this is your way of forcing my mind to have head-on collisions

with my heart,

it’s my fault

in part

for not being more mindful of where I place my baby blues

but they feel so comfortable submerged in those blinding beacons

you have humbly labeled as your eyes.

Sue me for wanting to find a safe haven

to rest these tired irises.

They have travelled long distances to find you.

 

 

III.

 

To Whom it May Concern:

When you speak, I can’t hear much else.

I hear your syllables, your vowels and consonants,

constantly caressing the insides of my diligence,

licking at the lining of my obstinate

desire to avoid thinking about you.

When you sing, the world falls,

fails to hold, hold anything,

hold everything.

Can we capture this frequency?

Humming in harmony.

I want to scratch the sound on a record and let it spin for eternity.

 

 

IV.

 

To Whom it May Concern:

I know that your prayers are beautiful, and I’ve never even heard them.

But I’ve heard your spirit, and the Spirit in you,

and I know what it sounds like because the sound of it escapes your mouth every time

you exhale.

Your carbon dioxide is a potent dose of Gospel

and you are a well of well-being and things you’ve been dying to tell

and things that He died for you to tell.

And I’d like to hear them,

when you get a chance.

 

 

V.

 

To Whom it May Concern:

I don’t intend to intrude upon your uninterrupted thoughts.

I don’t mean to meet your mental barrier with meek fists and meaningless punches.

I know you probably have more to be concerned with than a little girl �"

one of many girls �"

clamoring to enter your beautiful calamity.

But you should know that I am not interested in taking it all,

or giving too much.

I’d like to keep what is mine

for a while.

But I am willing to offer you my voice, even if all you need is to hear noise.

I can offer you my fingertips,

my lips,

and my cursive handwriting

in return for your arms,

your crooked grin,

and the slowest song you know.

 

 

VI.

 

To Whom it May Concern:

I guess what I’m trying

to pry from my heart

is that I want what you truly are

and what you truly want to be.

You can keep the rest.

It doesn’t concern

me.