Caught myself
Yelling at the dishes.
They didn't deserve it.

"An honor--"
they said.
"It is an honor
to witness
the undoing of your wrath–
how it scorches your ribs,
rends your shirt,
rattles your breath,
and cracks your skin
like Kintsugi.

For you
are infinite–
gold
overflowing.

Repair thyself,
and call thyself true.
I'll call it as I see it:
there's spirit in you."

Spent five minutes
screaming into my pillow.
I apologized after.

"I'm here--"
he said,
"I'm here for your tears,
your skin
your hair
your lips
your
special kind of knowing
in the clench of your fists,
in the shudder of your shoulders
in the racing of your heart.




For your fury is
your love–
inside out.
And I am here for it.
For all of it.

The force of your kiss
Is my undoing, you see?
Like the dragon in heat,
You breathe fire in me."

As I surf on the wave
after wave
after wave
after wave
of heat
and groans
and sobs,
I say,
"But what if I --
--break you?"

"It's risky business
to be a witness,
to be party to the
rough and tumble
of your
Life,
but that, my friend?
that’s the ‘you bring the matches.’
that’s the ‘I’ll bring the gasoline.’
that’s the ‘spit on the ashes.’
that’s the ‘maybe even piss on them.’
that’s the ‘take a fucking dump–
let it all be the burning pile of shit
it already is.’
that’s the weight-bearing
that’s the in-digging
that’s the point.

Risk came with the
choice
we made
to be given.
to be yours.
to be present."
And presence
is more than enough.
For they are witnesses–
and they bear it
with grace.

Just so.