Often the illusion
Gets the better of me
And I become sure
That you’re my very blood, born of the Right Stuff too
That the Supernatural said we should know each other and made it so
That you’re sorry -you’re just shy, so you haven’t hello
That you actually do wear that damn green T-shirt and pray for me each day
The oppressed dreaming
Let’s become the oppressors
Unite around this
Bid me tell you yes
That for one moment in time
I may forgive me
I’m trusting you to make sense of all this
To put a rhythm to what you see
That’s my gift to you
Find your voice
Your meaning
Keep the hope that all will come alive
That’s your gift to me
Such steps will be as dancing
Call it collaboration
The waning light
Bleeding, bruised
Yet, on fire for me
Like Lot’s wife
I looked
But found mercy, found grace
Having fled the chaos
Found a late rainbow
There
I speak for the masses
The sides of me inside of me
The arrested phases that do not know how to grow
The girl who grew, too tall too soon
Somewhere in there, a woman walks
Head held high, chin and forehead gently jutted
To the sun, she says
And she does
She does love
To do, to be
She questions me
To lead in love
That gives me pause
First steals my breath, then intuits me to question her back
What of the times you sought to love, to befriend
To be a friend, although in need?
They knew nothing of love!
Friendship foreign to them, they offered an attack
An inevitable abandonment
This is life, and you cannot opt out
You cannot, too, jump ship
You cannot not love, friend
She says to me
She strides onward
To the sun
Replacing now
Bone with bar
Skin with sheath
Heart’s daily death with a droid
Electronic love
An absence of like
Is all that exists
Amidst overhead LED light
Otherworld lips
Underworld talk
Virtual touch
Downloaded now
This is what we want
A help-meet or two
Who’ll listen in the dark with us
Be beside us
Cry with us over the suffering of the purported Other
Then wish with us
Then try
To make It better
Good traveler
Good traveler
Companion
Brother
Friend
Only you could reason with the voice inside my head
When your crazed dog turned on me
I opened wide the door
As lesser lovers ran from you
I prayed and asked for more
And I miss you
Is that alright?
I miss the man I made
I want you back
Your reckless words
Our talks sustained my Days
I’ll never trust your eyes
Always flashing early, often
Happy speaking lies against a good, good heart
I trust the strangers
Never needing to have seen
Somehow know the truth of me
I trust the front-yard flowers, too
Sometimes August-blooming poppies
Just for me, in June instead
LisaRosier.com 