Mar 31, 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 .