sway. [to whom it does concern.]

I wish I could play you a song like this…
To be your siren… to be your muse.
To sing you out to sea. But I’d never sing you to shipwreck.
The echoes filling up the wide open spaces all around you.
Invisible me… longing… reaching out across the waves on which you drift.
“I still care for you”
And I’d call you back to shore like the tides rushing higher and higher.
Yours is the only face I’ve memorized instantly… and yet crave to see again and again.
Your kiss … felt like the 4th of July kissed new years’ eve. I’ve never felt anything before…
I’ve never felt anything since.
We know our story well.
How our careful hearts impassioned with flames that overtook our house.
Our disregard raised red flags for the poet writing us out…
His regard was steady and resolute to rescue us from our shame.
It felt cruel…
The absence.
The cleansing.
The healing…
Our jealous writer singing over us saying…
I’ll play a song you’ve never heard.
I’ll be your siren.
I’ll be your muse.
I’ll sing you out to sea, but I’d never sing you to shipwreck.
Jealous lover.
In the midst of my wandering heart and failings…
In all of my anger and rage…
In all of my disbelief.
When I spit in his face.
When I begged to take it back.
When I cursed every name.
When my skin began to crawl at touch like a caged and injured animal.
When I would wake up crying.
When I was too afraid to move.
Much abandoned. Much afraid. Shaking in rejection.
Fear ridden.
He'd say, "I'm here...
I still care for you.”
He’d sing it over me.
He’d show me with those strong arms.
I let go of your shadow… of memories.
Of the wounds of injustice by those hands meant to protect.
Let go of the past and the present and the future.
I let the skin grafts begin where the flames burned deep.
Forgiveness like a salve.
Love’s slow reveal…
Inhabiting.
The cleansing.
The healing.
Redemption.
“Not as good as new. It’s new, my love. It’s new.”
I saw you on the wings of the morning.
Broken hearted, weary traveler.
It isn’t the time… so I wait.
Take all the time you need.
I’d prefer it if you came quickly, but love is a slow reveal.
You can hear me singing to you in your sleep…
Playing you a song like this…
I’ll be your siren. I’ll be your muse.
Singing you out to sea, but never to shipwreck.
Echoes filling up the wide open spaces all around you.
Invisible me… longing… reaching out across the waves on which you drift.
“I still care for you”