Winter story

I believe this darkness has a name

That does not have a name, and lord i pray

Not to know it for so long that we are calling

Each other at all; don’t let it make it’s home

Anywhere else inside, metastasize its logic

Through my blood, let me not pump

Memory of this into me.

But though love offers no escape,

Sinking through does,

As if down to a cave beneath the water.

Below the sanity of darkness, is light.

Behind the motel room curtains,

Red lights dazedly drip as they stare

At my naked body just out of the shower.

We are sober together, i hope,

Because they are driving off

And i am settling into a new understanding

Of my same life. It is here not waiting, not calling,

But letting nothing not be it.

Letting me choose, here I am.

This is all of ours.