OpenSpace

All I need most days comes in the form of open space

cradled in at the bottom of her neck

deep breathing and belly laughing something incredible.

I long to share safe space with her thoughts.

To walk in her dreams,

and in her real life.

I have learned to trust in the stability of those collar bones, to know that your heart can withstand the heaviness of our world.

I promise you she is the rain that beats down on my soul.

I promise you I have been seeking that kind of love

seeking that sort of rest.

I count my blessings on your rib cage.

Love is complicated and most days I’m lost to the way I fold to your text, to the yellow heart that follows each one.

I am tender.

And the self doubt in this kind of love is unbearable. Socially I understand that our bodies aren’t supposed to make sense but socially I understand that I don’t care anymore.

I want to see myself marked on your stomach

and take time for the disintegration of dependence and the migration to interconnectivity.  

All I need most days comes in the form open space

held in your hands

you dropped me, twice,

but there is a safety in those worn hands

we wear our rings on different fingers

like complementary base pairing or something.  

I truly believe in second and fifth chances.

Your legs, for as long as I can remember, hold the soft between us.

All things gentle and forgiving are held there.

When I can’t move, you are still walking forward.

Life is never stagnant with you.

Standing still can be so easy when you need that, when all you can do is breathe and even that is hard some days. You never fail to drag me through on those days. I have those days often.

All I need most days, comes in the form of your figure,

your mind,

and more importantly your open space.