to be gentle is 
to feel no need 
to prove one's power



Unspoken Easiness

You, preparing cups of coffee in the kitchen. 
Me, stringing words together on the sofa.
You, reading a book in the bedroom.
Me, folding laundry. 
You, returning from an autumn walk. 
Me, making soup, listening to a vinyl record. 
You, napping.
Me, sprawling in the bathtub.

Then also us, together. 

I know the arrangement. It's in my bones.
So simple. 
The softness of it. 
The unspoken easiness. 

Forget any boisterous popular desires —
just grant me a quiet home.



Love Existed First

There is no grief without love. 
Grief is the pain 
of something loved 
now lost. 

The origins of grief, 
the initial seed, 
the impetus, 
the provenance, 
is love.

Love always exists first. 

And while this knowledge might not fix anything, 
it might help us get through the longest nights. 




What is your profession? 
Not, what makes you money? 
Rather, what do you wish to profess to the world?

What is your statement? 
What is your anchor? 
What is your North Star?

What do you seek? 
What do you offer? 
To whom do you give your love?

Tell me, what is your heart’s profession?



Hey, Nice Walls

You guard your heart 
as if it had the fragility
of a sandcastle.

Of what are you so afraid? 
That a whisper of rejection 
might cause cracks in the foundation?

Or worse.

That a gust of affection
would rattle your kingdom 
and undo the effort it required to build those walls. 



Roses Aren't the Only Flowers

To move forward, 
we transform ex-lovers 
from roses to weeds. 
To stop the love we feel, 
we villainize.

But how does a person 
selectively close the heart? 
How does a person 
switch off love? 
There is no half-heart. 
No secret door. 
No partial access. 
No maybe. 
The heart is open 
— or it’s not.

Yes, I still see you as a rose. 
But I've learned to love other flowers.



The Person I Want to Be

Loving you is a particular endeavour. 
I’m required to be 
my most patient,
my most nonreactive, 
my most gentle. 

But that’s the person I want to be. 
So, to love you is to become a better me.



Heart Breakable

If you come to me with a broken heart, 
I will not look at you with pity.

I will look at you with understanding — 
that the world is bewildering, 
that desire is devilish, 
that love does not always last.

I will give you space to weep. 
And then I will implore you 
to keep your heart breakable.



share on Facebook share on Twitter