Escalation

It starts

With something so small

Eyes meet

And the world is enwrapped in light

Or a word

Nothing grandiose or absurd

But a moment

It is the spark and the world is helium

That's how it goes

And has gone since the golden days of Greece

When It had wings

And arrows raining from the sky

And also I

It starts for me the same each time

An accidental touch

Or a smile I have never seen before

Or a side of you

An act done that defies my perceptions

Of you

That moment when I believe again

In that thing

That it seems you cannot speak or

It disappears

But in all my wisdom I am a fool

And gasping in the moment

I grasp

And I name it before the world 

Love 

And I should be trepidatious 

I know

I should be much more careful

I know

Considering my past and my scars

I know

But I don't care!!!

I will name you 

O Love 

And I know I sign my destruction 

And I don't care!!

*a beat*

Maybe I should...

Because I have now begun to see

You 

My dear are still afraid of the pain

And she was too

Scarless as her heart may have been

And I jump

I start planning retirement homes 

And the names of our 6th child

Yes

I am a hopeless romantic 

When I love

I give you not just my heart but also

My dreams

And my future and all that I have 

It's a lot

I realize this about myself now 

In this writing 

In this moment 

I realize that my passion may be a bit

Overwhelming?

Not as some pat on the back to myself 

But a flaw

Many things in life are delicate and require

A delicate touch

Maybe love is the same thing too

Maybe love

Is the most fragile thing in the world

So

I'll do my utter very very best 

To keep it in

Retain all my enthusiasm and refrain 

My heart

I will hide and not carry on my sleeve 

Is this playing hard to get?

God, I hope not 

But if its what it takes to draw you in 

If the hidden heart is the "realer" thing

Fine 

I guess I will play these little love games

*a sigh*

And the moment and its momentum is 

Gone

And the warmth has left and I am me again 

This

It's the destruction of love for me

Each time 

Rain over my love parade

And put out my fires 

But then don't expect me to suddenly 

Be chipper and on fire at a beat 

My kindling

It's still damp and my flint is gone

Maybe

Wait and the spark might come back 

But I don't know 

See this is why love is so hard 

I can't seem to be 

Half hearted about it 

I give it all fully and freely 

If you give it back and say not yet 

You are no longer giving it back to a man

You are giving it back to a 5 year old

And he 

He doesn't understand why you don't want us

And he

He doesn't understand why you have to wait

Even if I do 

This is why I will live in the moment with love 

Maybe that will be a moment of waiting

And I will wait

And dampen my hearts tearing for you

Or maybe it will be a moment of passion 

And I will offer it fully and freely 

And selfishly

Making you be the bad guy 

This is escalation 

Too fast for present or past

This is love 

Why I keep thinking to leave it behind 

The Counter-Argument in the Mirror

"We can't build on this."
She says as she traces the concrete
Her fingers sliding inside
The deep cracks spreading far.

"Our foundation is broken."
She says as she stands there
And looks at him and shakes her head
And then she says,

"Help, I think I'm in love
With a descriptive grammarian
While I know I can never
Abandon my prescriptive roots."

And I say to her, "You're right
Of course this is more important
Than love and happiness and art.
Juliet, hold firm to your Capulets."

"Our foundation is shaky."
She says as she wraps her ams around
Herself hugging away the cold
And says of him again,

"Help I think I'm in love
With a liberal loving socialist
Who thinks it's okay to laugh
At things like capitalism and competition."

And I answer her, "You're right
In fact I think I've heard him whisper
Communistic whispers in darkest night.
Time to start building your wall, Berlin."

"Our foundation is cracked."
She says as she turns to think
About maybe actually walking away
But pauses to say,

"Help, I think I'm in love
With a man who prefers Versaille to Oxford
And Paris over London
And the Neoclassical over the Victorian."

And I answer her, "You're right.
And the channel is too wide to swim
So let another hundred years war begin
Before you become the Countess of Calais."

But then she pauses and stops
And doesn't say anything and I can tell
She's thinking about all of my answers
And maybe within them sees my true meaning

"You think that it will be alright?"
She whispers and looks around
"Even with all these cracks
Spreading across the ground?"

"We are two people
Not two puzzle pieces
We are complex and intricate
And no one will ever be a perfect fit.

So what if my school of grammar
Or finances or society or art
Is not the same as your own
When has that ever meant a thing to love.

So do not fear the cracks
Because everything in the world is cracked
And as the great poet said
It's the cracks that let the light in."

Now I turn to myself standing arms crossed
Shaking my head in the mirror at myself.
"Help, I think I'm in love
With a prescriptive grammarian."

And my other self shakes my head and says,
"Don't make excuses about philosophy or art."
And I know I am right and have to speak the truth,
"Alright, fine. Help. I think I'm in love again."

It's Just TV and Tomato Soup

Removed for Submission

Never Let Go

He waited until her fingers were just in the right spot, then slammed the door shut as hard as he could. Inside the car he could see her screaming and he did his best to try to look surprised. And not to smirk as he gingerly opened the door to apologize.

"Kendra! I'm so sorry!" He gasped and reached for her bruised fingers she was clutching to her chest. 

She was adamant that she wouldn't cry. She held her fingers up for inspection, not because she believed his sympathy for a second, but because she wanted him to see. No broken bones. No bleeding. And it wouldn't bruise until he was gone. No sick satisfaction for him today. 

"It's fine. Let's just go." She hissed as she sat back. 

He shared a small smile with the sky as he moved around the vehicle and slid inside. He looked over at her arm crossed figure looking out the window as he set his seatbelt in with a satisfying click. Then he cleared his throat. He didn't start the car. For a second a thought walked through his mind, that maybe he should say sorry. And actually mean it this time.