Relationships

Relationships survive,

some say,

on solid ground

where temperaments meet,

where values agree

and there’s balance

between order

and impulse.

Or

they’re simply the

acceptance of a love unable to die.

Sure, we may hope to survive our time together

on the bases of matching traits,

or we can live out

the insanity of love,

come what may.

It’s not like we’ve a choice

anyway.

The only thing

 

Your voices bounce softly off each other's insights

like music twirling on its own notes

as we lie on the sofas outside.

Our dog rests on a blind side

but we hear its breath

—automatic like the sun,

like a smile.

Inside,

the dishes could need doing.

Somewhere in the city,

reports are being written

and interviews conducted.

Thousands of miles away

stocks are chased on Wall Street.

We’re falling asleep, though,

together in the sun

by the foothills on Bakers Road.

“Isn’t this the best thing ever, just doing sweet fuck all,”

you whisper.

But I can’t help think

we’re doing the only thing

to be done. 

Back in April

Back in April

I left for Nepal then made my way to Europe

for I felt this could serve me somehow,

perhaps as an education.

But in leaving home,

I left you, too,

and have waited to be sentenced for committing

this greatest of betrayals.

September’s coming

and Europe will soon prepare for the cold.

I’ll fly back home and into spring

where a new love is birthing for you

—one I’ll be foreigner to;

one I’ll be punished by;

one that will pain me

and test me

on just how much I’ve really learned.