Strawberry Fields Forever

    I wrote this almost a year ago. It's still one of my favourite things to read, and I do so often. Sometimes broken hearts never fully heal. It's comforting to recall a moment of calm. Where love is still avidly present, even if a happy ending isn't.


    He stood, perched by the window, hands planted on the sill, as they usually did. And me, still lying naked in bed, watching, as I usually did. I had always observed him with such fascination, the way he seemed so fixated and yet so far away at the same time. But content. It was rare to ever find him in such a state, and if you did, it was fleeting.
    This morning he was singing-- he was always singing-- but never this song. I sat, my eyes locked on the profile of a face I had memorized ages ago, listening.
Realizations hit you at different speeds, various weights. This one was swift and left me winded, but upright. As if I had seen it coming, and had time to plant my feet, breathe deeply, and swallow. The truth fell on me like the sun, warming it's way through the open window and spreading itself across our wrinkled sheets. Blinding at first, but strangely settling.
And there it was. I wasn't going to spend my life waking up to that face; the sound of his song, his body framed by the light of our bedroom window. And despite it's current rays casting his shadow at my feet, the sun had finally set on us.
But he continued to sing, and I continued to watch his lips move, holding tightly to his words…

Go away from my window,
Leave at your own chosen speed.
I'm not the one you want babe,
I'm not the one you need.

From Me to You

     Last night was one of the worst sleeps that I can recall in ages. But mid way through the night, through my tossing and turning-- and apparent moaning-- I managed to unwrap the first 4 lines of this poem from my restless mind, have the sense to write them down, then fall uncomfortably back to sleep.
When I woke hours later, while on the tube headed to a nine hour teaching day, I decided to add some conscious additions.

I like this poem. I think it feels honest.

 



So let's sleep on our sides
Skin kissed to skin
Where you stop
I will to begin.

Come to me
I'm far too sleepy

To find you between sheet and pillow
The dusk, our blanket
The moon as our sun.

And we'll sleep on our sides
My warm to yours
By the shape of your curves
My body will pour.

Find me here
It's far too early

To say goodbye, as sun would to sky
The mountain, its curtain
The moon draws it shut.

Please, sleep on your side
Let yours look to mine
And see us as one
Or eyes should they blind.

Closed may they be
May they never see

They'll find you near
And you'll come to me.