This Is How I Love

15 Jan

In seasons, in waves of

content and yearning, in measurements

and inches on a ruler, in the changing phases

of the moon.

The summer solstice, and then winter.

The length of my favorite book, the number of songs

on a mix tape, minutes in the day, months

in the year. This is how I love; as if

nothing can last.



One Response to “This Is How I Love”

  1. Robert Matthew Meade January 16, 2014 at 11:04 am #

    When someone cries,after making love spills.A pail of tears inside,it is the ache of years,all the early years’ emptiness.Hollowed into a pail-like form which fills.With feeling now felt aloud,that resounds.Why would an orgasm make someone weep?Why,for being loved now when one had not been.The anger tendered into tears astounds.The lover with fear to have struck so deep.

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