By being with you,
I forget fear,
Forget about the black oceans
that chase after my breath and jubilant emotions,
About the black hole that demands my soul,
The inner critic that only spews bitter winter,
Storm clouds that stalk me like blood hounds,
Thorn bushes that beg for me to worship them,
adorn my heart with them.
Tidal waves whose shadows darken my days.
By being with you,
I remember the innermost me,
The sunbeam me,
The celestial succubus me,
The self that is a living heaven despite Hell’s persistent spell.
I remember that I’m not those dying embers;
I’m the blue hue in a growing fire.
I now know that we don’t fall in love, we soar.
The only direction you take me is
higher and higher.
In rediscovering my inner peace
I forgot my 28-year inner war.
From the “Red Flag” poem series.
So many poems.
So many of them have been written
Here’s another one:
You’re the contour of the sun that I don’t need to see. I feel its warmth, its light bone deep.
What I feel for you isn’t a feeling, it’s a state of being.
Being with a being like you is like seeing the universe spontaneously birthing itself again and again.
You’re more than lover, more than friend. The mend to my heart cracks. The luminosity where it lacks in the crevices of a self long forgotten.
Through you, I remember me. Throughout, within, all around you, I am reminded of the cosmic’s countless wonders
and I stop wondering what if and when and why.
And I start to think how easy it is to astronomical-proportions love in one monumental step:
Your heart, soul, mind—open them wide and pay no mind to the lack of veils hiding your scars and darkness and raw beauty that’s world-illuming.
Eva PoeteX – ©2016
On our first date
I’m going to wear Hermes sandals
and I’ll buy an extra two for you at the bazaar—
even though it’s far too soon to get each other gifts…
Consider this a blessing from the Greek Gods.
Oh, and I promise not to be late!
And I swear I’ll be clothed above the ankles!
Gotta keep the mystery to avoid that future misery.
As soon as we meet by the local nival park
on a bench engraved with lopsided hearts
and speckled in bird poo, I’ll somehow convince
you to try them on in the right dab center of winter.
I’ll hold out my hand,
You [hopefully] won’t let it flail
all by its lonesome,
awaiting frost’s bite.
We’ll ascend to a Flower of Life
constellation in the midnight-dark
sky and slow-dance
till our love flowers.
© 2015 – Eva PoeteX