The Other

moments

my eloquence

could not capture

or perhaps articulation

fails when

first embraces

are as light

as young leaves tickled

by spring’s youthful sun,

as bold as a rising wave,

engraved as the first taste

of loss.

Who decides?

who belongs with who?

and what loves to condemn?

standing at the kitchen sink

washing clean dishes

a futile distraction

repeating ;

you belong with her

she belongs with you

and they  who decide

will always condemn

the other .