I never write about paradise.
About the region between familiar hands and my own,
about the person who makes the perilous journey to become my arms and legs,
who becomes my beacon of bad and better,
who twines oneself into the chaos I conjure and smiles sweetly at me and kisses across the car console.
I never wrote about how important the person is
who will wrap himself in your tarnished gold and fix all the worst parts of you, even if in the sprawl of your backyard, whispering all the good of music and madness.
I never wrote about the people who brave the top button and confess all the good of your smile,
despite all the times they never text you back,
despite all the times you let them tug at your confidence,
they mend it with a vigor unsurmounted by anyone.
And I guess that’s what paradise is.
The repair.
Because we’re all unfashionably broken,
we’re all diseased with disarray,
but some choose to voice their vaccinations,
and some choose to walk solemnly away.
Choose the one who believes you are fixable.
Choose the ones who see the glimmer in your uncommon eyes and realize you are worth every ounce of your trouble.
Choose the ones who defy principle to put you on their shelves.
Choose the one who lights fires in your ribcage.
I never wrote about paradise,
how important paradise was,
but it was everything.
It was everything.
just saying hi to an old friend
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ReplyDeleteCheck hashtagsummerblogs.blogspot.com for an invitation.
ReplyDeleteI remember two years ago, when I was a junior in high school and these blogs were everything and you were a legend I looked up to. You're still a legend I look up to. I remember telling your brother Talmage I read your stuff and he said you needed to give it up. But I disagreed with him then and I do now too. You're a monument in Paris, whatever that means. But I'd rather have you alive, even if we're stuck on the outskirts of it now and building homes in other places. I mean, I'd rather just get to read some new stuff by one of the greatest poets I've ever read (I say that as a person who reads a pretty good amount of poetry). I mean, if you do happen to want to keep writing it's not worthless and there's people who would take meaning from it. And really I just mean thank you for what you wrote and the influence it had.
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