Union: a Poem

Flashes of a life that might bleed into yours:

This is the music that I played for Grandmother when she died, and
this is how she listened to it: like lilacs on water.

This is the man I loved, and this is the woman I want to marry, and
this is how it looks: like a plant growing in fast motion.

This is the ground in which I buried rage, and this is the sky to which I looked;
this is what I have, though not all that I have…I am still having.

Here, this is the money that I made, and see this? This is the money I lost and,
this is what it felt like: a dragon-fly sleeping.

This is the bed that I forgot to sleep in, and these are the sheets I need to clean, and
this is what it tastes like: mint.

And this is not the whole, the whole me.

So here is the smile that I smile when I’m angry, and here is the frown that
I make when I want to laugh, and here are my feet that hesitate to walk,
at times. And sometimes I swim.

So here it is, but not quite the whole:

Picture you, picture this, picture these — hands that I have used for
good and evil, body that I’ve steeped in pleasure and pain,
picture this your body, too.

Are we two? One? One waking up, as light moves through every
cell and sinew, maybe my bones, our bones, your bones, we are –

This is the sunset that I kissed after Grandpa died, and this is what
it sounded like: a drum beat.

This is the bedroom that I left after praying, and here — this is my
business suit, and this is my bathing suit, and

Here is the food that I eat: ice cream and brazil nuts.
Feel it flooding your veins? Does it ring your bells?

When I feed myself, do I feed you?
When I saw you, I saw myself, too.