Love: A Revolution

Now that Pluto is bigger than we knew it to be

I love you with another kind of heart -

resilient like water, willingness to expand.

You leave me a longing the size of nine and a half years

and three billion miles. This is how long it took 

the astronauts. I can fit all my dreams of destruction 
in the distance it took us to reach each other. 
Revolution. You split my soul. 

Carry the weight of air, expand in me. It hurts

to love you. To wake waiting for your voice,

to wonder if the planet will disappear without a trace.

Not even a trace of the chaos you stirred in me,

the madness of this desire, more dense

than both our fears combined. Is there even the need

to define a love that cannot be placed

somewhere for safety. Isn't loving already

an agreement with the universe 

not to be saved.

Confession

Again I carry the carcass.

It has been rotting so long
over my shoulder, my head
deep inside the cavity
where this animal's heart
used to beat,
that I haven't even noticed
it is no longer a living thing.

I spent so much time counting
each bone in her ribcage
as I have done over and over
for the past three years
(just to make sure it stayed the same)
I didn't even notice
when she stopped breathing.

I carried on with her skin.
It kept me warm, and I didn't mind
it decomposing over my own
until the moment it ceased
to cover me. No safety
guaranteed in love.

And in death I walked again
the streets we walked together
watching each moment
with the brutal honesty of the light
people say they see
when they come back to life.

I saw the moment I left her there
in the French cafe on Abovyan street
like a reckless driver who won't even stop
to check on the being I hit.

I have no words to say.
I am afraid I killed
the animal that lived in my soul,
as I have killed any animal that dared
to venture deep enough to discover
I had one.

counter-love

Because I love you I have grown used to your moods,

your shadows after midnight in the living room 

and the doubt in your voice when you are reaching 

for truth. I give you all I have and seek more 

for giving, for trust building 

and healing. I know

you need it all. 

Because I love you I speak so my words are not hail

but snow - 

soft and weightless - 

and because I would not dare raise my arms

to place my hands over your shoulders

for comfort

I craft my words into light and harmless touch,

a quiet song for your heart to not break any more

from these themes of loss and lack of hope

in our lives.

Because I love you I adapt to your body the borders

you need for safety, I move between your bones

and shift my skin as needed to not stir 

possibilities for fire, even 

if I want to burn. 

Because I love you I listen to your voice breaking,

make love to silence in between each of your pauses

and hold space to be filled with the story you must tell

again and again. I know you need a witness 

for each time you had to stay silent

in self-preservation. 

Because I love you I stand by in the war you enter, 

each time ask me to leave the battlefield, 

go on your own. I am ready to meet you 

when you arrive at my door, asking not to be judged

for each choice you have had to make

alone.

Because I love you I become the space you need

even in your absence. I become a selfless thought,

guide our collective dream 

beyond the boundaries of material 

and imagination. I know you need 

someone else to believe.

Because I love you I mold desire into work

we must get done. 

I leave behind any poems I write.

(April 2015)