I stretch my hand

across the years of my life

as though my fingertips

could regain

all that I have lost.

I see my man

laid out before me

like a gift

sweetly placed within my palm


and fingering his way up my arm

to rest against me again.

I love the stars tonight

how they whisper

and beg me

to fall into his arms

as though I wasn't already planning on it.

I stretched my hand

across these days

so sure that my fingertips

would grab a hold of something solid

and warm

and I would not be chilled

so deeply


I hate this cold

this freeze flowing through my veins.

I am too far from home

to far from myself

to deep

in his skin

to fast

leaving my own.

I'm afraid of this

free falling fall out

this end game

that could complete itself

either in my favor or his

-or ours.-

I've stretched my hands out

nurturing and nourishing this new land

that I find myself calling home


longer then I have anywhere else.

I love this house

its borders made only of you


that do

not yell

and scream








to the eyes

who look me over as though I were a prize

or a lost cause

depending on how much you know about me.

I like the yoke

of this leadership

his hand

stretching out over


around me.


I have been taught

to abscond.


I do not find here.

Beware of my shackles

my tempers

my moods.

Beware of my love

it will follow you across oceans

and wars

that you feel you need to fight.

I stretched my hands out

my fingertips folding for you

my litany

I have stretched my hands out

and found you.