I use many big words in my art and in my world. My vocabulary is not without it's limits, but my grasp of the English language is fairly extensive by most standards. Yet... for so few letters, there is no word I use, that is quite so large... as "Love".
Those four small letters carry such a massive weight... so many meanings in the subtleties and subtext. In most languages, there are dozens of different words to describe what, in English, all are lumped under the single term: Love.
I love my dog.
I love bacon.
I love this new iPhone!
I loooove lazy summer days lounging in a hammock in my garden.
I love Italian food, and Italian words rolling off the tongue.
I love the child that i carried in my womb.
I love my brothers and sisters....
I don't know how any of this applies to you.
Lustful blindness is sometimes called love.
Chocolates, and flowers and heart shaped jacuzzis is called love.
Wrinkled old bodies that no longer even share the same bedroom much less press their lips together, after 50 years spent together is called love...
I haven't used this word yet with you... maybe that is because it is too early... too soon... too something. But then again, I don't now who holds the standard that I must use to measure the language of my heart. Maybe it's too much... too soon... or too little? Or; Maybe I haven't because I am not sure that it means, what it is that I mean to say. I am not sure that it means the same thing as I have used it to mean in other lifetimes with other people. I use it freely and abundantly with friends and family... sometimes even with acquaintances that I feel a soulful connection with. But it feels strange and awkward to apply it to you when I think of the times I've said it to those I shared a bed with, and how I felt about them, and how it was similar, and yet somehow so much different... I don't want to devalue that which I feel growing stronger in me with each passing day. Its such a small word to contain so very many thoughts and feelings that your presence in my life, has been inspiring in me...
If I said "I love you" would it speak the whole of what I truly feel? Or would it speak, to you, of all those that came before me? Would it stir your fears? Poke and prod your insecurities? Would it conjure images of those who went before; the unique ways that they showed you care and connection as well as their mistakes, betrayals, and miscommunications? Would that enter into your brain, and unconsciously peg me as the same?
Love does not stick in my throat because I am afraid of the enormity of it (well maybe just a little afraid...). nor am I afraid of its current (growing) state, it's boundless potential, or it's many forms. Speaking it out loud does nothing more than acknowledge that which exists.
It is there already...
It floats in your consciousness as well as mine, and I can see that clearly. It is what guides my lips and my hands when I am as close to you as skin will allow. It is what caresses my shoulders and whispers projects and plans to span across changing seasons in your ear. It is the patience that rises in you when my son's panicked expression tells you that he has no idea how to respond to the gruffness of your masculine voice and you soften just a bit when you repeat yourself. It is the patience that flows forth in me when I sooth your daughters foreign tears over breakfast sandwiches... where my son's familiar eyes would be dry. When I adjust my words to convey kindness and concern for her heart, even when I am firm in ways she finds unfamiliar. It is spread across the awesome sandwich I slipped in your lunchbag, and in the thankful message you sent me as you ate it. Love is in those vulnerable spaces I am opening to you, even though it is unnerving after so many years of holding them back from every other human on earth. It is in the gentle intention you enter those spaces with. It is in your eyes when they flirt across the room, as much as it is when they are six inches from mine and begging me to let you in...
It is the possibility of what we could create together in wood, in steel, or in flesh. It is nurture on mountain top trails. It is meeting halfway across the water with a life vest... Matching the rhythm of your row to help carry the weight. It is remembering and recognizing the importance of small details... listening to what my mouth is saying, and sometimes listening to what my eyes are saying despite my mouth saying not much of anything at all...
When I say "I love you", I will mean all of these things. When I say "I love you" I will mean that I want to explore so many more mountains, plant more garden beds, bandage more small knees, and build and sculpt with you, amazement of all shapes and kinds. I will mean, that I see a light in your heart that is slowly but surely washing away my fears of whatever darkness each of us carry in these bags and suitcases we haul along on this road. I see a light that can not only withstand mine, but that is willing and able to merge flames to create something greater and brighter than either of us could alone. I see already, ample evidence of humility, integrity, hope, kindness, and honesty more abundant in you than in many (most) other men who have passed my way. When I say "I love you" what I will mean, is that I strongly suspect that we might have what it takes, between the two of us, to not only weather life's storms, but to THRIVE and enjoy the ride. When I say it... I will mean that I want to do things with you that I've never yet wanted to (or thought it was reasonable or possible to) do with any other. That I want to hold you and kiss you and care for you so unbelievably good... and that I want to trust and allow you do the same for me. So that all the years of each of us struggling to be seen and appreciated will fade into a dusty monochromatic photo, in an album, on a shelf, in our warm, colorful, cozy, bursting with LIFE home. When I say I love you it will mean far (far) more than ANY four little letters could say. More than all the letters I've strung together here and now could say. Probably even more than bandaids, and bedroom eyes, and back rubs, and sandwiches can say (though they come closer than words could ever dream of). When I say "I love you" it won't do any justice at all to what I really want to say about what grows bigger every day within my heart and soul... but those words will have to do.
Wednesday, June 17, 2015
shame lurking in the bottom of my ocean
stirring up as sediment in those deep places you touch
when you look into my eyes and offer deeper thrusts...
Do you ask for deeper trust?
dripping and running down my face,
I didn't even know were locked down
in those tight, wet spaces
There is pain.
Now, I can feel it.
Its been rubbed.
Raw and real.
all those moments
when I let myself be treated as worthless.
and am I?
Soiled in my sensitive soul...
Is there no shower in the world that will make me clean?
I have tried for years to tidy this mess with my own hands.
but maybe with a steady stream
washing your life over my walls
a little more guilt rinses away...
While your eyes gently hold mine
could I release
impressions of ghosts hovering
eyes that looked through me...
Arms that held me only as an option
or an orifice.
can you hold me?
both tender and tight enough to tell my fear
over and again, until it's undeniably clear...
that those you've wrapped me in are not the same?
There is sorrow there where you place your lips.
your soft tongue massages so sweet...
ripples of pleasure,
mingled with years of tension.
hips that have not slow danced against an-other's in far too long...
When you dive deep
there is stone...
not coaxed slowly from the deep warmth of my womb.
but ripped and torn from my screaming belly.
tenderness sits sobbing...
in these breasts you lay your cheek on?
nourishment unfinished yet
then the river of life ran dry....
There is stinging and aching hanging in the curves
the luscious, lovely, soft spaces I live within...
I can see.
taste and smell.
can hear them polluting my home
despite my diligence.
despite my diligence.
I send compassion to myself
and to those who poisoned
There is lust
there is a childlike playfulness...
and there will be light there again
bursting with life
when Love arrives.
Joy flooding those juicy spaces
eagerly drinking you in.
only desire will flow
where skin meets skin.
a flower fragrantly in bloom
will offer only sweet nectar.
my heart won't hold you back
the fear that sticks tight in my belly will shake loose...
and I will finally. Just. let. go...
will you lay beside me until after all my ancient tears have gone?
or will you have long since flown?
Your taste so far is pungent...
Gently provoking heat.
Gently provoking heat.
But are you made of something real?
Does fear outweigh your longing to feel?
Time will reveal.
and if I trust that you'll stand fast
and hold dear whatever wounds you find,
will you show me what you are holding
within this flesh that touches mine?
Wednesday, June 3, 2015
Shaking in my skin.
ping pong game
of comfortable connection
and anxious awkwardness.
all those goblins lurking under my bed
come crawling out
clawing at my eyes
I'm not worthy of those kisses...
beware that gentle tenderness,
that kindness, friendship, and respect...
and all the tears I've spilt on 20 years of men
flood the room around me.
its filling up!
it's filling up!
I can't swim!
I can't breathe!
I might die if I don't bail out.
over thinking it
o ver thin king it
ov er th ink in git
o v e r t h i n k i n g i t
I am too strong to feel so weak in the knees.
I am independent.
get a grip.
I don't need to need someone...
It's much too quick to let myself go...
I tell her to be still.
but there my foolish, foolish heart goes racing up ahead.
I scream at her to stop her mad skipping.
stop acting like a silly child!
and my breath
catches in my throat.
and I'm scared
that I want your arms to stay
while I lose myself in sweet dreams.
and I'm unnerved that I've thought a dozen (or fifty) times today
about your hand strong and steady beneath my back,
and your hungry lips
on my melting neck.
My voice comes out shy... soft...
and more needy than I am used to hearing it.
and my shell cracks
a little more
you caress my tension
and kiss my scars.
what if it breaks open
and you bolt.
leave me on my back
a tender, foolish, fragile pink creature
alone in this wilderness.
and what if?
and what if?
and what if?
and what if.
its easier to be alone!
whirlpool in my chest
of feelings I dread
fear to tread.
oh to be semisoft inside
not hard, but street-smart enough
to keep my hands firmly wedged between us.
no chance of ever mistaking
where I end and you begin.
If I throw a boatload of torrential crazy your way
will you run or hide?
my words and moods can fill an ocean.
Are you mountain enough to stand?
Escape now may be easier than drowning in rip tides...
you oughta know that: she wears no disguise.
Is it alright that I really like swimming in your eyes?
I hug myself tonight
and remind me that
none can see
what will be.
and I breathe
through thunder and
and boats capsizing.
The shaking subsides...
soften my belly.