a wave

"a wave" - 9/12/10

of inspiration is something
I've come to welcome
the way other people let
people into their homes

but I never imagined
a wave could pull me under
so deeply I'd stop breathing
the way I'd breathed before
and learn to drink in air like wine

when you tell me you've shared details
about us with your closest friends
my heart races with nachus and I know
I belong in this new place despite
the pangs of fear and reluctance

scratching, unwelcome,
like daggers at my otherwise
red luck-painted door
the street where you live is wide
and feels familiar like I've lived there before

you say it seems gray, hampered by clouds
you describe newfound urges to
write what's been tempered
or maybe just buried like leaves beneath
more leaves; sweet purpose abounds

you're welcome, you're welcome
(flatter me as you do with gratitude)
for new memories, whispers, bonsoir's and a bientot's
welcome is something I've rarely embraced
addict as I am to what artists call "space"

is my self strong like you say?
am I honest and comforting like you assert?
oh the things we become, suddenly,
when Love's sailor adventures bravely
and kisses the stormy spray of courageous abandon

I consider your hands as they left such deep
impressions of hope upon my soul's sheets
skin so much softer, blood so much hotter and eyes wider
now with longing for your words pouring out

like beautiful red marbles onto my heart's hardwood floor