Sometimes I find myself falling
into the dream you awakened
headlong, without resistance
into a third eye clarity
I was never keenly aware of gravity
until that moment I took a leap
of faith and felt that I couldn’t
fall enough
fall hard enough
fall fast enough
my heart with its retractable claws
digging deeper into the place
where truth is pure
and speaking it doesn’t hurt
trying to find the core
where all these molten words
must be coming from,
the ones you pass on to me:
through the brush of your hand
from your lips to my lips
or across the room
where your silence electrifies
with intention, the minutes
charged with ardent understanding
and there must be a source
outside of your body
tangential to your soul, some
cavernous, illuminated dimension
where you are freely pulling
these theses of certainty
to recite to me
igniting me, making me feel divine
I’m holding you and time feels
like the proof of a transformation
after the fact, as if all the world’s
undressed and you and I
are the lives that lived
next to its skin, next to its fevers
and we are suddenly no longer
earth-bound, loosed but coded
with memories that don’t
sound like lunacy only when
we remember them side by side.

And that’s how I knew when I found you.
And that’s why I always need
to be next to you.


Only for a second I hesitated
asked my intuition whether
I should treat you like a temptation
or a sin

but I recognized you only as my healer
when you first spoke to me
and the moment felt like a mirror
I saw in myself the healing
I never had the courage to ask for

and I went ahead and reached for you
and my senses fell into understanding
like when light devours water
not like an ordinary hunger
a struggle to breathe
a vision of my chains
and the look in your eyes as if to ask
how come the pain,
opaque and sticky as black tar
rancid with tears and dragging days
has a mold of my body and my face,
has it really been that long
since I last tried any movement,
and do I still remember
how to love without fear?

But you weren’t asking me
to prove myself,
you were giving me permission
to trust what the future has come
all this way to tell me:
that you and I are both
river and bridge,
reality and its cure,
and even hurt knows when
it has nothing left to feed on

what it felt like
was you were pulling me to you
what it really was
is you were pulling me to freedom

what it felt like
was me slowing down your
passion with my questions
because I was afraid
of being so sure, so quickly
but what it really was
is you and I,
from two different directions,
inevitably arriving at the decision
to stop waiting
to probe each other for the answers,
the necessary ritual to call
our shadows by their names

even my scars were turning
into verses that rhyme with beginnings
where there is nothing I ever did
that needs forgiving

Blind, But For My Intuition Who Bid Me Don’t Resist

I just met you
I don’t know you
you are as dangerous to my spirit
as a rogue salvation spilled
from a tongue that chose me
broken in translation
for everyone else
there’s no way for me to
make them understand it
if, for instance, I need
to tell them I’m falling
into something endless
and have started seeing
a different sky
they would only think I’m crazy,
that I’ve faltered in my resolve
to starve my old addictions
and not even recognize
that these symptoms are new

I just met you
but feel no need at all
to protect myself from you
I just met you and already
there is no place in this world
I wouldn’t go to
if I were following you

I’ve never seen your face before
unfamiliar with how the poetry
that covers your body might feel
under the urgent searching
of my impassioned fingers
and sitting next to you
as you drive down this dark tunnel
is a risk I can’t be taking
a threat to my state of mind
but my subconscious has gone haywire
because it already knew
knew I was going to call you
knew I was going to give you
all the reasons to wonder
what the second day with me
is going to do to your soul
knew we would set each other on fire
like spontaneous sparks
clash of silver catching on paper
putting up no resistance

already knew you,
when I know nothing about you,
stranger whose skin tastes like
potent echoes of the home I lost,
whose gaze makes me hyperaware
of the colors I’ve swallowed
with my morning coffee
painting my insides
with sweet prescience
awakened from my mouth
I am saying all the right things
to make you want me

already knew I wanted you

I just met you
so I don’t know how
I can be so wide open,
so eager to be vulnerable,
so casually conversant with my hunger

Pièce de Résistance

Sometimes I get asked if
I’ve always known I would
or wanted to
leave it all behind
for love,
this love,
or some love, and
whether I think it was worth
being in a place where
I have to start again
from the beginning
with nothing but my name
and my history
and my favored virtues

and I guess I have
believed with all my being
that my soul and what
I have to give
are worth something
and at some point, life
would ask from me a gamble
whose stakes were
proportional to the caliber
of my character
and somewhere
there’d be a moment when
it is all that mattered

and there has always been
the wish to measure up
to that kind of transaction
with destiny,
not to get out
of where I used to be
no, escape is for cowards,
not to possess or be possessed
who I am is bigger than that,
but to have love, real love,
love as it was meant to be had,
with strength and purity,
and to look that moment
in the eye and acknowledge
with all the honesty
my heart can stand up for,
that it is a difficult choice,
that nothing in this world
is guaranteed,
or reversible,
or without consequence,
and still tell that Guardian
who made of free will both
solid rock and question mark,
who is always listening,
who laid the pieces down
before I ever read the words
before anything had meaning
then asked me to choose,
…..I take what’s mine
……….and I own it,
and whatever follows
will all be but
the next ocean-deep dawn,
the next uncharted road.

If Life had a Soundtrack

Thunder on the road

and remembering

the skyscrapers flanking
this strip of palm-lined
cobblestone pavement
like scrapbook pages

and the clouds heavy on the sky
like responsibilities on shoulders

beyond that next stoplight
you are my destination

and my distraction

the song fed into my brain
by my earphones
and all the psychedelic
kaleidoscope patterns
in my heart that
change to the beat

Quantum Origami

That funny feeling in your stomach when we first met was your physical reaction to time folding in half, creased at that moment.

So now that we’re together, you can think of all the times you have ever been hurt or lied to, and hold me a little tighter.

Then you and I can make up to each other for all the big lonely past, one day at a time, throughout the big blessed future.

The Time it Takes to Complete a Masterpiece

It’s OK to have a mixed opinion of yourself. All the parts of you that you don’t like right now only look ugly because they are under construction and the Worker’s scaffolding is obstructing your view. Upon completion they would complement the parts that you do like. And the high and sometimes harsh standards you subject yourself to will prove to be your best friends in the end. Trust me.