Feather Weight

A kiss creased into a back pocket
Smiled unexpectedly
In reference to a present opened on Christmas,
An item thoughtful and needed
Following a fence post wanted

A knock prior
Passively echoing a feeble voice
Whispering

Shake dry the sultry atmosphere
A brush of moist air passing through

Dive down stairs like submarines learning to sink
Releasing ballast out of habit
Plunge mechanical
Skin rusting
Oiled joints moving with effort
Onto couch cushions-
The very bottom yet just beginning to,
This is where it begins

Trading finger prints with hand shakes-
A continued attempt to show these arms are
Harmless
Continually striving for contact

Laughter asunder
Subtle oxygen deprivation
Pupils dilate in accordance
With action perceived,
Teeth reveal themselves
Peaking around the corners of a mouth worn upward

Ambient gossamers of cerulean float freely
Between
Two telescopes meeting-
Bashful harmony brushed gently
Into the inner folds
Of knees swollen,
Wading water convinced pressure
Could crush such a thing

A throat ladened dry
Spoke as if swallowed by
The undertow
Gave response to tension-
A note to be read
Until the words are wet and impassive

As It Is

Joy consummates the soul, sews the ragged seams of one’s heart shut, cleans the wound and filters that putrid mud which has soiled the liquid purity of blood. All to often however, failure is accepted- falling asleep to Parks and Rec. caked in sweat with the volume up so damn loud your own dismal conceptions drown without a second thought, whispering compliments into whiskey bottles hoping they’ll return the favor with friendship become hobbies. When not working or studying for twenty years of debt these are the things that occupy us. No more do we dream of grand fantasies or shout impossibilities to the heavens as if we ourselves are the gods the oceans answer to. No, we are but human, idle and defeated existing under ironbound weights; our skin a canvas of lacerations exclusively okay, never better, never worse.

To find joy, fleeting as it always is, is to realize that the innocent idea of “infinity” lasts a measurable amount of time. A first kiss unexpected and rushed on a school night walking briskly home before Mother realizes that you’re thirty minutes late for dinner, a road trip in rust lasting a week of curse words and cigarettes- I left my accent in West Virginia, the smell however, stayed for another ten days. Each petty attempt at holding back a smile that would strike a sun in the darkness of my gut remained for as long as needed. For a measurable amount of time the chains were lifted, arteries were allowed to heal, the heart allowed to beat. Let this body be a map of cuts and bruises, perpetually determined to convalesce as much as I suffer, I will find my way home cleansed and honest if only for a moment.