"I had that familiar conviction
that life was beginning over again
with the summer."
- F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
Give me the strongest cheese, the one that stinks best;
and I want the good wine, the swirl in crystal
surrendering the bruised scent of blackberries,
or cherries, the rich spurt in the back
of the throat, the holding it there before swallowing.
Give me the lover who yanks open the door
of his house and presses me to the wall
in the dim hallway, and keeps me there until I’m drenched
and shaking, whose kisses arrive by the boatload
and begin their delicious diaspora
through the cities and small towns of my body.
To hell with the saints, with martyrs
of my childhood meant to instruct me
in the power of endurance and faith,
to hell with the next world and its pallid angels
swooning and sighing like Victorian girls.
I want this world. I want to walk into
the ocean and feel it trying to drag me along
like I’m nothing but a broken bit of scratched glass,
and I want to resist it. I want to go
staggering and flailing my way
through the bars and back rooms,
through the gleaming hotels and weedy
lots of abandoned sunflowers and the parks
where dogs are let off their leashes
in spite of the signs, where they sniff each
other and roll together in the grass, I want to
lie down somewhere and suffer for love until
it nearly kills me, and then I want to get up again
and put on that little black dress and wait
for you, yes you, to come over here
and get down on your knees and tell me
just how fucking good I look
i used to think i’d look back on loving you as the hardest thing i’d ever done.
but truth is, loving you was easy. was in fact the easiest thing in the world.
it was the attempt not to love you that nearly killed me. the attempt to rationalize and to make sense of what was never meant to make sense. the attempt to ignore and silence and make little what was as big—as vital—as anything in this life can ever hope to be…
One of the keys to a happy relationship is letting go of the little stuff. You can’t let it get to you.
People who hate waste so much of their life hating that they miss out on all the other stuff out here. I do not choose to live my life that way. What is done is done. I’m looking to the future…If all my heart was filled up with hate and regrets and what ifs, then what else would it have room for?
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