I love you like an orange.

It takes me five whole minutes.
Standing there, pulling off the skin,
picking off the white stuff,
separating the wedges,
picking off more white stuff.
Seems like I never get all the white stuff.
Even eating it,
I'm still picking off white stuff,
spitting out seeds.

An orange is not a simple snack.

But I'm not thinking about the peel,
not fretting all the white stuff,
not hating the seeds.
All I think is the orange.
It's really good.

And I love you.

Dusk

Funny how it gets dark now,
leaving me behind,
inside,
as if something has gone on
without me.

It's hard to remember now
the things that hold me
together,
hard to think that even
while I fall invisibly apart,
somehow I remain.

What adds up to me?
Which sum am I?
Who is there now to find
me when I've lost myself?
How will I know where to go if I
don't know where I'm starting from?

Will I be able to love you into
survival if I've never
known how to love
at all?
Will you someday forgive
me for bringing you to life
in me?

Maine 2008

I saw an old man in Maine,
he was nailing plastic to his house,
wrapping up for winter.
It was cold and time for dinner.
Within my borrowed walls I
wanted to be, like him, in occupation,
with a house to keep and a family to hold
and someone to go inside to.

Always waiting in the waves, we are
boats that hesitate, till harbors fill
and everyone is gone.

Calling

How far is too far?
How long will it take
till you figure out
every word I say
is a promise
I'll break?

How long is too long?
How far can I run
till I'm too far gone,
till you let me go,
till my weakness has won?

Why do you still call my name?
Don't you know I'll always come?
I take what you give, then walk away.
You're a fool
to stay
calling out my name.