Loneliness eats at my table
Loneliness eats at my table like the perpetual visitor.
The family member you try to forget your blood ties with
Until he comes to stay just one evening, just one day more, just until
The ocean dies down and he can trace his salt-stained footsteps back into his own abandoned home.
Loneliness comes to my door like the lover instantly regretted,
The cheap scented flower you try to forget you picked and treasured for a sad hour
Until she comes to ask for you again just once more, just one month more, just/
The dark has finally left the street corners and she can creep back under morning’s scathing grace.
Loneliness finds my bed like the child afraid of his own midnight mind,
The pathetic boy with curled hands and white-washed cheeks you must admit you yourself birthed
And now must cradled to one morning more, one year more, until
He has grown too big for your room and can spill over to cover the rest of these/
with his girth.
And now Loneliness lives with me no longer a separate person but an extension of my body,
The tumor that has dug in so many fingers that I cannot see my hand from hers,
Speak my name without her voice,
Or know the art of being alone without the rhythm of her heart.
I want to be the sun that slams into your first opening eyes,
The morning coming in with no apologies and no misgivings for the brilliant promise
Of the day it brings for you to love, and live, and take with all your being.
I will come without warning, when yesterday was cruel to you and
Last night decided to leave early to make you beg her name again.
I will walk in brazen with light-tousled hair, my hands dappled in the honey of
To sweeten this savage awakening with the whispered songs
You haven’t heard yet.
Those sweet hymns weaving through your hair like the soft fingers of a lover,
Painting you gold
In passion that is strong enough to shake you awake
And gentle enough to ease you up out of the bed
To face me again.