Already (poem)
I already love her mind.
I already love her words.
I already love the parts of herself she reveals to me in herds
of raw, broken, struggling, yet
completely filled vessels of hope and
understanding. I’m not demanding
totally sodden with angst,
yet pure, unfettered, passionate, real.
A bargain on hearts, today, mine’s a steal.
I don’t know where this thing will go
knowing, yet knowing, I cannot know
wishing and hoping, that floating hope
I’m holding the wrong end of the rope
relating the angst of the things we do
feeling connection, connection anew
reaching for content, my spirit breaks through
I could fall for someone a lot like you.
This is one of the more beautiful poems I’ve read. I have to know: who is she? Can you give us a first name, or initials? Or do you keep your private life completely separated from your public persona?
Often, i write from a place of fiction…and just as often from an experiential place. Maybe I should make you guess which one this is….:^) but there is a universiality to love that is the same for most of the human species. But this one, I will confess, was written a few months ago, and the person to which it refers is no longer on the love-interest list, but now a friend. As I’ve said, you can fall in love with the wrong person, just like you can NOT fall in love with the right one. But I enjoyed those moments of hope. I cherish them.