Sometimes
Thinking about you,
And about the parts
Of our lives
We’re able
To share with one another,
It just –
I find I want to
Dance
My delirious heart
To death.
We are witnessing
Tyrannical ideologies
Tear their way
Through our
Delicate definitions
Of democracy,
And our fully formed
Fears
Of failing
The future.
And still.
The warmth I feel –
In your presence
- surrounded
in the actuality
of your occupied
wavelength
of time and space –
it makes …..
it’s thrilling.
The days and nights
Melt down the walls
Of the small place I call home.
And it’s like
BOLTS
Of intensely refreshing
Sensations of solidarity
- of spontaneous simplicity,
which is startling,
but real.
Sometimes I find
Myself
Engaged
- no, enraptured
by the long,
lingering layer of light
that embraces
the episodic glimpses
we are so
fortunate
to find for ourselves.

As the years
Built up
And rolled on,
Home stopped being
My small place,
And quietly became
The big, broad smile
On your face.