On One Hand

October 24, 2006

Reclaiming Home

Filed under: Uncategorized — ononehand @ 10:04 pm

I want to stop walking in arcs around the swings
where we laughed on our first evening together,
stop feeling that the trees and alleys are not my own
but hangover memories of things we shared.

I reclaim these streets;
white porches dipping to meet the river
of cracked asphalt, shaded by stately oaks,
they are now my home
again, flowing smooth to note my passing
tucked under the sweet air of autumn.
I reclaim these buildings;
red brick and sandstone arches looming above
and the cornerstone stoop, statues and old apartments
chipped and worn from years of sun and snow.
I reclaim this bedroom
long filled with the voice of our laugher
now warm with the heat of my body alone.
I reclaim this river;
the iced and twisting boundary between us,
and the bridge I sauntered over to meet you.
I reclaim these clothes;
now folded clean,
no longer smelling of your kisses,

I reclaim my body;
my hands, no longer aching to touch you,
my eyes, admired and admiring others now,
my fingertips, once calloused from writing letters to you,
now calloused instead by the smooth strum of guitar strings
humming the glory of reflection,
I reclaim my palms;
that once came together in celebration of you,
I reclaim my toes;
that once curled at the press of your palm on my belly,
I reclaim my thighs;
that once wove between yours as we slept,
I reclaim my lips;
dry for months forgotten the touch your tongue,
I reclaim my back;
no longer pallete to your caress,
and my sides;
no longer sticky with the press of your soft cock
against me, cozy after hours of love when you
clung like a koala as we drifted off,

I reclaim my heart
that always rememberes;
once punctured with holes of your loss,
that will heal and beat again,
these scars,
marks of the triumph of my Calvary
for you those months
when I cringed in longing,

I reclaim this city
and sidewalk
and dancers throwing batons of fire,
and my mind that wanders
through the green parks here,
through the trail by the river where I kissed you
and I reclaim the movies we watched together
and the books I read in your bed
and the rustle of the leaves under first snow
as we smoked clove cigarettes
arm in arm on your front porch.



  1. beautiful poem, Matt

    Comment by matthewtroxel — October 25, 2006 @ 12:34 pm | Reply

  2. A-fucking-mazing. I wish I’d written it.

    Comment by cobracabra — October 25, 2006 @ 11:38 pm | Reply

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