A Poet

Puddles of time muster only the bridges that keep us crossing. The lover brings pine needles for a fire to escape trembles, springing back to an experience meant to be shared not only with yourself, but with others. 

Laughter hollows the tree, measuring time stronger than the beat that steams from the heat of a bird’s beak grinding into the wood. After is always forgotten when the ocean allows our hearts to touch salt submerged. Different from moments at the rocks. A taste on the tongue reflects the answer we have been tending the gardens for; gardens that belong to each other, minerals and rocks. 

Your garden is only rock, pebbles to move left and right, symbolic for the eyes to see. Tending to beauty, opposed to the birth of life and collectivity. 

Does the little aquarium with fake fish bring rivers for me to remember and colors for me to forget? The breath is salty and the skin is salty. A memory of the water is a moment sealed into the skin, vitality is questionable in nostalgia. 

I exist as others understand the making of their mirror, for love is to see through the prism and reflection, bringing energies into being past the time of birth. For birth isn’t always the awakened moment, as the first light burns your eyes and the first taste chokes your throat. Though, the first hug warms your skin and hums your heart, rhythmic through the body. 

You will remember the first hug. The one with the curtains draped around you with stars coming out of your teeth, releasing the bands too tight on your mind, an offering of your heart to pain. 

An introduction is tender. To arrive in a place of giving, giving because we don’t understand the making that turned us all separate. 

One will teach you togetherness. One will pull that apart in the name of understanding one is neither good nor bad. A hole is there to teach you what to step over. A whole is there to teach you that direction isn’t real. Going one way or the other turns the path collective. To each their own, but nothing is mine, and nothing is yours. What will you bring to me but me?