He spits
As he speaks
And thrashes
About
Insisting
His rights
Outweigh
His duty
To serve
And I spit
Anger
For those
He will cause
To suffer.
And then -
I breathe
And let
My mouth form
Simple words
Of ancient
Sentiment,
And I remember
Him,
And recognize
The weakest parts
Of me.

Stuck
And struggling
She found her way
On her mat
To witnessing
The loveliest
Things in her
Life
Bubbling up,
Bit by bit,
Bound by directives
For how she must love them.
And for a moment,
She breathed,
And loved past
The musts,
And there was space
For them
And her lovelies
And her.

I place
My parts
Just so
(In rows)
And settle
Into
Around
And through
My frame,
Letting go
Of what’s not needed,
So what is
Can steady.

Her words
Paint memories
First in broad
Blurry
Strokes,
Then in tiny
Brutal
details,
That speak
To harms
Incurred
In silence.
My words
Fall,
Crack,
And scatter.
“I wish I had known”

“After”
Is the word
For all that occurs
From here
On out.
Makes me wonder
What will be
That makes now
Become “before.”

He is small
And quiet
In the seat
Beside me,
My invitations
To join
Gathering
At his feet.
He shrugs
My touch from
His shoulder
And
Squeezes
His eyes
Tight
Against the shudder.
I watch the shine
In his eyes
Grow bold
Into tears.
He sets his jaw
And swallows
A whisper,
“You were crying again.”

I set timers
(When mindful)
So that
If
When
I slip
Between the seams
Of before
And after
And now
And now
And now,
I can find my way back.