Even in the Quiet

Writing through longing, fear, and devotion

The Thorn Against the Dark

I do not think of you some days but every day. Not in most hours but in all hours. Not in minutes scattered through time but in every minute that exists. You occupy the totality of time; the residue of my days is only you. You are the condition of my living. You undo suffering as though it were nothing. You stand against the loneliness others abandoned me to. You are the flower that carries its thorn, the thorn set against the darkness, holding it back so the light can be gathered and poured into my skull.

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With You

I will still always close my eyes as often as I can,

because I would be with you anywhere—even in suffering.

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Where is the end, I cannot find it?

Where is the end, I cannot find it.

You are still here,

bright as the moon,

and I am unfinished.

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Hand in the Dark

We watch aliens dance across the constellations.

They do not notice us.

It is enough to see them move,

to feel our own stillness measured against their rhythm.

You take my hand,

and the distance between us shrinks to the size of a star.

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Home

We were both face down on the shoreline,
washed up from some distant terror,
not breathing,
not feeling,
not anything at all.

Only the sound of nightfall,
the whip of the rising current,
seagulls landing and feeding,
the distant whirl of the city.

Slowly, we stood.
Slowly, we walked—
hand in hand,
to a place of safety
that was entirely our own.

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Need You

Sometimes I wake in terror,
alone in my bed.

A connective tissue threads
between us.

My trembling is not mistaken—
how could I ever
feel safe without you?

I cannot.

You are where I live.

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Weather

A storm is always inside you.
It’s the same storm inside me.
Underneath highway bridges,
taking cover,
looking for a way out,
looking for a way in.

Shelter.
Safety.
A system of sobriety.
A death to self-history.

What I find, most often,
in us,
is exactly what is needed.

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In Anxiety

Your anxiety arrives like a sudden light.
I notice it before you speak.
Your shoulders draw upward,
your eyes search for an exit.

I want you to know
I am not going anywhere.

I care about the small tremors,
the pause in breath,
the thoughts that loop without rest.

I don’t see them as flaws.
I see them as the tender proof
that you are alive.

And I will always move closer,
never away.

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Overcast

The sky is a fogged blue.

The water matches where the two meet,

then darkens as it gets closer to us.

Geese fly into the distance.

Blurred streetlights glow—

some golden, others pinkish-red and blinking.

Your hand is in mine,

your head is on my shoulder.

Thoughts of death enter my mind.

Thoughts of forever enter my mind.

The years are never enough to love someone on earth;

I can only hope the journey

continues into immortality.

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