you have carried it heavily
felt the bold weight
as if there were a chain attached

this pearl inside you
began formation
at a most tender age
a jagged speck at first
polished and nurtured
into a black luster

there are times
a man attempts to control everything
and nothing… yes, nothing

I fell to a desire to possess
this inky orb within
to pry it loose and carry it
as my own gorgeous burden
a porcelain purple heart

with a higher love
I must abnegate
this quixotic sentinel

your tears cannot feed me
this pitiful love of your pain
only selfishly adds layers
of iridescent black nacre
estrangement of unwanted care

instead I will hold dear
my own light
and your path of discovery

© Tom Watters  9/30/07

she brings the air
in her words
I exhale hastily
to draw deep

hold them to the light
as if these words
were ektachrome slides
colors and edges

blurring the distinction
between record-keeping and art
I make up new definitions
as I view them through my lashes

love,
faith,
honor, and hope

these words bring the
scent of new rain
on dusty desert roads
pollens that have fell barren

that slightly sweet scent
of a newborn child
spelled out into the auditory
indefinably alluring

truth,
peace,
respect, and revolution

I feel them fill holes
holes that shouldn’t be there
I try to touch them on my screen
define their grit on my fingertips

feel the treason behind her suffering
betrayal through wordless actions
coarse, small and angry
self-congratulatory theft of trust

life,
patience,
forgiveness, and balance

she brings the air
I reach to understand
to bring her words to my lips
and hold them there softly

to hold them safe within me

© Tom Watters  9/23/07

anechoic
I walk on the edge
of her moist lips
lengthy, drawn tugs
feet in the sand
synapses in rhythm

close to her
perhaps thinking that
I never belonged
she is welcoming
because she is home

an assistant
in a cerebral world
sings to me of love
like no lover can
holds me in tangled skill
burrows under my skin

she reminds me
how simple expression can be
a curve that traces infinite
so it can embrace
all-encompassing,
mind and body
two, but not two

she listens to my
most precious phrase
hears my desires
and amplifies them
pulling ability outward
so that all paths can be seen

she knows of your radiance
pulls at your trials in
her curious breezes
she brings you her name
as her gift
she knows you fight
for her honor, her name

a continuance of blind grace

© Tom Watters  9/18/07

in morning’s coral light
truth has interesting packaging
she doesn’t point to destiny
claims no more promises
than yesterday

I still search for
your unabbreviated breath
moist on my shoulder
and am met by
my phone-alarm in its stead

a year of origami ballerinas
waiting to be unfolded to a
certain wrinkled flatness
stories to be written on
those pages so openly blank

my sallow face awakened
by my coarse finger’s rub
my mind tries to trick me
that you’re there, just down the hall
brushing and humming… safe

weary hands grasp the
moisture from the air
draw shallow gulps into my lungs
not this time either
holding myself softly

you said I was amazing
in the clear voice

so far away from now

© Tom Watters  9/10/07