A passage from last winter; signs of our decomposition

I told myself I had no words for you,

and they did not come,

I told myself my heart was yours,

as if that were a decision I can make.

My heart was in many other places,

held captive by the snow,

but as winter, spring, and summer did pass,

and you held me while I shook,

my body began to know you once more,

my healing brought me to a place where I can begin to feel you not just in memory,

and energy escapes me as I write these words.

So much pain was caused by you and I was not the one to heal it,

but I see now that I do desire you beyond the mask you put up,

I hold you in my arms and that love is pure

I wait for you in our home that we build together

and every hard thing boils to a point

thick in the air like soup

But you open a window, you hold my hand,

you tell me how you feel through tears

and thunder

and I understand

We have done the work of shouting women,

we have seen the anger of shameful men, and now I ask that we notice,

the yellow bellied birds, and the daffodil seeds swimming on the lake

I put my hand on your chest,

“Right there? That’s where you feel it?”

“Yes”

“It’s warm”