Cascade
We fell asleep in each other's arms, again.
My arm extended and sat my hand down
firmly against your hip bone.
I loved the way that felt, even with my elbow
strained, and locked in place. It felt like home.
And it must have for you too, because when
my palm began to drift your grasp around
my wrist pulled me back down unto your
womb's mantle as if you were planting
my touch into your skin.
I have always belonged there.
When we woke to the kiss of sun rays,
we made love. We were two stones
rolling along a river bed, encircling
one another and catching each other's
weight as the flow pulled us toward
a new horizon. A destination that had
always felt buoyant, and just out of
reach. Like a shimmer at the top of the
water, resembling the face of what you
think love should look like until you crash
through the breach and destroy the facade.
But, as we came to each other's shoreline,
there was no shimmer. No shattering hope.
Only your beautiful smile, welcoming
me home, as we continued to cascade,
catching each other's weight.
Keeping each other close.
-James Kelley 2017
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