LOVING AND BREAKING Arabella Ware Lately, I’ve been writing about you a lot. Somehow, you have worked your way back into my poetry.
I can’t help but paint you with these words of mine because it always looks so beautiful. I miss this. When I could stare at you and masterpieces would pour out of my body with the same delicacy and intensity of your gaze. I miss the way that I could sing when I traced the skin on your neck, but most of all I miss the words that visited me when I loved you. Those were the words that carry lifetimes. Those were the words that carried our bodies together and I have been mute for so long that the aching in my backbone has given way to the inevitable aftermath of a poet’s broken heart. So here it is, plain and simple, three poems of before you loved me, when you loved me, and after you left: ~ There is something very simple about this love. It is like eating cereal at midnight and listening to your favorite song when it’s raining, Lyrics trickle from your lips and poetry glides off of my tongue. You are so gentle. ~ Before you loved me: It is these beginning stages that are the embodiment of love. Our hearts, honeyed in the prospect of future, are ever so vulnerable. I take your hand with the caution of a child, still learning how to walk, and place a piece of me inside of it, handing you the first fragment of my naive soul. I think of you as I close my eyes, wondering, praying, that somewhere else, you are doing the same. I dream of you as if you are something divine swallowing me in feelings that I don’t yet understand. Oh, how I crave you. I wince, it’s like learning how to breathe again. ~ I learned him. I read him like my favorite book and I sang him like my favorite song. I memorized his texture like it was the only thing I could touch.
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PRODUCT OF INSOMNIA
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KATHERINE HANCOCK
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