Routinely

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A closet door stands open in front of my eyes.
I look long enough to contemplate.
I hesitate to shut it, hesitate to leave it open.
It annoys me with purpose.
Secretly, I know once again-
It will have to swing open.
It will need to.
And yet, after deliberation, I push it shut.
Hard as I can.
Hard as I maybe am.
Time passes in the busyness I create.
Over and over and over-
back in front of this door,
I forgot I put it away.

catching the sun

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flickering at first
starting to peer into you
watching from the most vulnerable place
a place far away and close enough
to find a source of energy
the rush of a new picture in your mind
the hollowness of knowing it won’t be the same
emotions fuel your fingertips
tap tap tap on the glass of this windowpane
a window to the shadows
a spectrum of only. if. maybe. again
the time seems to fly through your bones
existence is stuck in the sinking commotion
how do I tell you to find me another day?
how do I show you how I exist?
how do I sing a song so sweet
so sweet that the salt fades into sugar
I imagine you and me in shaded grass
a place we have never met
where it makes sense
my toes are heavy on the crispness of
the lightness of light, of unbound bareness
it’s here-you find a way
to breathe into my weary soul
I find a way to let you
nothing else but nothing more, nothing less..
this is where we start to run
you and I and a place that might have been-
both longing to catch the sun