31 Mar 2011

The Other

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 .