When I hear
Debussy’s Nocturne I
Turn to jelly
For in it
I become me
We all have
Our song some
Of us write
It while others
Sing some whistle
And others rap
Find yours so
That someone else
Can also find
You right there
When I hear
Debussy’s Nocturne I
Turn to jelly
For in it
I become me
We all have
Our song some
Of us write
It while others
Sing some whistle
And others rap
Find yours so
That someone else
Can also find
You right there
Relationship we have
One ours isn’t
Confining like a
Plastic bag suffocating
And sweating ours
Is cotton and
Wool cooling yet
Warming when the
Worlds heat and
Brisk winds beat
And blow ours
Breathes filling our
Lungs with precious
Air allowing us
To be you
I and We
And now you
Sit in a
Seat on a
Plane coming back
After your trip
Like an adventurer
Standing on bow
Saying goodbye to
The jungles mountains
And arid plains
Back here to
The sleepy city
I wonder how
Long you will
Remain satisfied with
Me knowing that
I offer the
Same exploration here
With my body
When I’m done
Writing I am
Done living it
Is that simple
It’s like caring
Fingers dancing across
My ribs making
Me giggle like
A bouquet of
Spring daisies found
On my doorstep
Sometimes it’s like
A horse at
Full gallop sweating
And sometimes it’s
Like that first
Late November snowfall
As we gather
For the holidays
Sometimes it’s like
That yet sometimes
It’s the dripping
Eaves after rain
Or a warm
Towel after shower
Or sometimes it’s
Just your voice
Whispering in my
Ear those three
Delicately simple words
That you say
Only to me