we have travelled thousands of miles;
we have felt spite and fear for diminished feelings;
we have played this game for far too long.
last night we missed hearing others' poetry
to make our own.
i was not afraid of skin,
and you were not afraid to feel.
we were born with instinct for a reason:
realising what you want is half the battle.
my other half is hesitation-
my other half is you.
i still swell with emotions my therapist
can't help me label
when i remember how you said
you weren't over me.
and how we joined again,
with an interim year,
and a new understanding of emotion
adding to and balancing the physical.
last night i put my skin in your hands;
i gave it with trust.
i left my nerves in my clothes and i shed them,
on the floor,
and spent time with initiation and impulse.
the bruises on my throat a result of passions,
i smile as i shield them from familial eyes.
the weight of a year has opened my bones
and a heart that is ready to