There's a sadness and peace I can't explain
in the crystal sleet on my porch,
the pooled gaze of my student,
the curled locks of the boy i'm f*****g,
with his deceiving honesty
and his spiked black eyes,
like earth at a funeral.
There's a sadness
in my crazy windswept roommate,
carrying around her cello like its god,
locking her love into its case,
like a suffocating mother,
never looking back, afraid
to be lot's wife--
But still starving to catch love, like
trying to catch rainwater with a sieve.
Sadness and peace.
in the boy who lifted me tumbling
into my bed, showed me youtube videos,
made me baclava and then
just
stopped
loving me, like it was so easy.
like he finally fixed a faucet that
was running too long.
I remember him on the chair,
screwing in my lightbulb cause
I just
couldn't
reach.
Sadness and peace.
with the man whose soul I knew
was curled up and huddled.
and when I stretched it out for him,
stretched it with long languid strokes
and some good scotch, feeling open
and splayed and worn like a pressed lily--
he curled it up again
and hid from me like a good book.
Sadness.
Looking at your ex and
knowing now you'd fit.
Seeing his half friend-lover,
her pearled teeth, innocence,
spring lips and abercrombie jersey.
thinking, wishing
him a better turn this time.
Peace.
Is in your carmine taxi cap,
the flash of garnet earrings,
the stability of starbucks.
The boy who flirted with you
and your "unique outfit",
the bitterness and cold
and endless cans of yuengling.
The bit of hair on your arm
that boy said was beautiful.
The change, the peace, the pace--
the slow, sad, brilliant blue
file of people.
Knowing its so easy to slip
under the covers,
lay in the warmth,
and think of unfolding them
with one heartbeat.