love, noun

love, noun:

actually the opposite

of what you thought —

not the rush of blood

to your head, to your heart.

not a verb, or at least

not a human one,

but the resilient, inexplicable


not the resolution,

not the sex,

but the terrible, shuddering


before, and after, and the rest

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There are moments I remember that even the schools of crickets are multitudinous, and that waiting for the rain makes the sun too bright. I discover new shapes every day: green ones, gold ones, secret


Conversations with Jesus on the front porch. So many worries. That's true, he says. Everything moving by things I can't see. But perhaps, he says, you can. And under it all? You'll remember, he says.


I haven’t asked him for his number because now I am known, now the I-I-I am afraid, now I am up there on the raggedy cross with Christ: no longer unimaginable (so a little breathless), no number, no d