You were too cloudburst
Not hurried or rushed just
not able to stay
Here in the corner of my home
Here on this bend of bone
this sliver of now,
I sometimes speak to you
as if there wasn’t a corpse
of scripture left unsaid between us
Still when we laugh
people watch and wonder
what holy hell of a hurricane
passed between us.
(after Bahnu Kapil)
Vocal chords that turn to dust
A voice cut
into glittering vowels
Books left to rot.
Poems left to swirl on someone else’s tongue.
You don’t get it?
You don’t get it?
do you?
Your backward speech
smart ass passive tongue.
Say it to my face
and say what you mean.
Am I a container big enough
for all this sweetness, all this love?
This is what I fear:
not being able to hold
all the love someone wants to pour into me.
That I’ll sink under too much
love, that I’m too small
for all a beloved has to offer.
How far could I stretch?
How wide could I sunset
across the sky, if I were willing
to break out of all this smallness?
Imagine that. Being too afraid
to break into something so radiant,
into something so free.
Compassion Camp 