SOC Writing _ 2.9.21

Come between

Between you and me is free. Free space we can take up as we need – when we bleed – make speed not a place to travel to but a way of making space – the vast divide inside us is mirrored for this moment between us. A longing unleashed inside me to hide, to confide with my bowels, with my boy and my man – and most importantly the land that holds, cradles of civilization as we seek to bring forth the dust of our ancestors in our own clothes. We are washing our garments, hanging out what needs to be aired – have the bees pollinate the parts of blue, red, yellow – find a place to fertilize and make grow a whole spring garden of flowers – the delights of love spoken about – experienced, not know – have I grown? Have I felt this? Where in the surrender is the place of arriving to love sufficiently to feel home? Must it always feel so stark - so challenged? I don’t know – my way always now to get out of the way, the truth, the life – each finding in ourselves a way to find home – to tap into that familiar yet frontier land of the heart where the unspoken and surprising elements of life are always waiting in plain sight. You pulled me in and held me – lips caressed and bottom’s taught – I want this – and don’t – I am a push, pull machine called love – like the oars of a rower – there is a way to finesse this two – so that they glide like one – can be jerky to being with – till we each feel into what the others comfortable range is – each pulling with the exact power of the other – from that place real companionship can arise - and we are getting there – just as you are going there – just a I am holding here – just as the clouds come over our darkened steps – smoke pouring from your mouth into the street light – watching people leave illicitly from fellowship with my neighbours – as we create worlds under the cloak of yet another lockdown, yet another turning of our tides, yet another season of our share lives.