She Really Is

She is not He
Nor an It or an If

She is Where It’s At, Has Always Been, and Forever More Will Be

Where If Goes To Become

She is Where He Needs To Be Attending To

She Really Is

She Is Peaches and Mittens
August Fire, Mountain Avalanche
She Is Baseball and Criminal

There’s no more Not Knowing Such Love

She Is Leading Me

August Thursday

I am the tangled mess
The girl of your youth, whose eyes you dared not look deep into
And never said goodbye to

That I saw you, lovely, tangled, too
Need not have scared you

My broad understanding
Your broad shoulders
We were called
To beckon back the lightning that twisted our existence

But for your fear of me that August Thursday
But for my depth that ran too deep
And your unspoken goodbye
We’d have set our world straight

But instead
Goodbye
Tangled, tangled mess