I forget that I love you


A blizzard of scarcities and plentitudes of confession, of contrition, of defiance, denial, anger, guilt, sorrow, despair, rage anxiety impatience silent & noisy desperation, and, exhaustion.

And then, somehow, Contact:

A moment’s peace,
a dynamic peace,
a peace of many wholes and
a whole of many pieces
in play,

It’s just that sometimes I forget that I love you.

Overlooking the reminders surrounding me,
or missing their meaning (as I was taught),
I sit as if alone.

As if gravity itself is insufficient evidence of our bonds.

We are all drawn together.


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