The poet in me
can see you writing me
saying
I was afraid
I ran away
I’m sorry
I told you I usually run away, do you remember?
And I would
And I would forgive you with urgency
for it’s the most right
right has ever felt
so far
and I have ran from love more times than I would like to admit
I can see myself landing in Puerta Vallarta
in two weeks
with brown and blonde curls as big as the Indian Ocean
toppling over one another with excitement to see you
I can feel the trickle of sweat
Under a white shirt that is unbuttoned three times
bellowing in the breeze
that comes when you’re a poet and can paint it all at your palms
I can see you
and your glacier blues
waiting for me
there
you’re wearing that light blue shirt
and you are different but the same
hearts don’t age like cheese or nice wine
but we do
I can see myself laughing with your parents
your dad brushing the grey of his hair
your mother likes me
all mothers like me
I have a kind heart
you do too
I see us on airplanes
packing toothbrushes and laptops
telephone calls late at night when we are gone
we may go places
but it doesn’t
it
won’t
for when it is real
it vibrates and humms quietly in the night
through the days
over oceans and mountains and cities blowing black fog into the trees
Yes, I’m going there
I can see us on a small yellow float plane flying over the green and Blues
there’s a yellow large mop of a dog with a rusted collar
a blue fish beside some red fins
perhaps a fishing rod
I’ve never been fishing you know
My fingers loosely hold yours
I can see us sleeping in a green tent
in Fryatt valley
cold toes pressed against your legs
I would like to take you there
I would like to show you Canada some day
not right now
you’re not ready
but someday I would like to show you all kinds of things
drink coffee in a blue tin can and shower in the yellow and pink limestone waterfall
we will need to hoist our food up every night into a tree
for bears and Cougars
you’d like that
I can see you chopping wood
through a window that has seen twenty years of rain
I can see a wool grey blanket and a roaring fire
I can see my heart burning beside it
for you light a fire in me
I can see the back of your blonde head on a white pillow underneath a bug net beside me
I can feel the weight of your arm as you wake up and pull me inside you
I can even see you sitting next to me
on this blue seat
today
In 32 F
passing by the turquoise greens of Miami
watching white clouds and a world pass by
we would drink black coffee
and I would massage your right hand
that you hurt
as you are as hard on your body
as this is on my heart
the poet in me can see all of these things
for I have the imagination of Picasso and the fingers of Frida
I can go anywhere with my heart and these words
it is why I breathe
but you are right
there is only black coffee
and I am alone
missing you foolishly and sweetly
writing this poem.