asking or playing God;

Ports and portholes and holes of ports;

part of my view hidden in sight,

looking forward.  Meanwhile, I’m finding

my own retrograde incomplete, mixed

within the light.  Am I, or are we,

beginning a foundation like cold hands

stacking hard stone?  What should I build?

I’ll build eternity if it means you stay this time.

If it means me asking or playing God, certainly,

I’ll build it all, or help; whatever it intends to be.

And here you are in a flower bed, teaching

me how to grow—if and however tall.

It feels like a second.

­

I’ve been stuck on the same page, and oh how

I’ve had friends take the easy way out.

How easy can it be?

Never easy & especially never easy being.

A sigh toward that.

A sigh in a direction.

­

I have someone and I think I love them.

Am I capable?

It feels like a misdemeanor.  It feels like poison.

I love it.

But AM. I. CAPABLE?