I’m not sure what to write here. I’ll probably come back and write more later, or add another post. I hate feeling pressured to write beautiful prose every time an event’s anniversary rolls around. The truth is, while there is an abundance of poetry to share about the way my life has unfolded into the arms of a strong man who holds me together like glue; that the best way I could describe what it feels like to live this life of fortune is to simply say that I know now I’m one of the lucky ones.

I didn’t plan on ever getting married. But I’m glad I had.

My wedding was one of the most nerve-racking experiences of my life. But my marriage has been one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Chuck really is my better half. And he loves me the way I deserve to be loved. Who could ask for more? It’s maybe more than one person deserves. I’d be lying if I told you that it didn’t feel that way some times.

If I could go back in time, and love him longer, I would.

Here’s to a long and full life, together…

for fifty days i fasted,

knowing no-thing,

save the retching of my own flesh,

save the pit of my own stomach.

*

for your arrival safely we sold

our cattle, fashioned a festival

our first kiss –a first sip of wine

on the day break of Pentecost,

at last my fast was over.

*

we fashioned circles of precious metals

and strung them around each other’s

vena amori, declared forever in a vacuum

proclaimed endurance upon the coming

event horizon of time itself.

*

space swells with the ancient ruins

of men and women who shed tears

tracing the constellation trails

from one end of an ocean to another

filling the void of voiceless oceans

with metaphoric rapture and appetite

for adventure.

*

*darling, the smell of desert sand swims

firmly between your pores,

your body warm as the land

cut like mountains

between your biceps

where my head lays

basking in the moments

you are here. 

*

how i adore you so.

*

proclaim eternity

enter matrimony – eyes wide open

place his heart upon a pedestal

let no slanderous word nor malicious canticle

seduce his woefully mortal heart.

*

roots and petals of calendula

poultice to quell the spasms

you take me in my blood 

and i take you in my arms 

when the nightmares hurt 

worse than the back pain.

*

you remind me that even in the winter

the carmine-colored cardinal coos

and whistles, awakens the trees and fills

the cold world with sweet song.

*

i’m unraveled in your high collar,

blue and burned in a freak fire,

raptured by the desert

nothing is forever, we know,

yet everything is possible.

*

there is no going back.

*

on this river of time

except maybe we’ll escape 

the event horizon burn 

as radiation about 

the black hole’s radio halo.

*

dying light is a subjective notion

when you limit every poetic persuasion

to the limits of the human eye.

*

we weave honey, orange citrus, & marmalade

into spacetime tapestry,

 devote each second

as the present is our own reward

the art of being in love,

the pleasure of being alive.

*

the future is a metaphor –

as in calling the ocean endless

naming riptides undertow

we: new and other molecules

blur into water, two bodies

one brackish soul.

*

-six pm | *after easter

Photographer: Paige Six

I’ve waited quite literally a lifetime to settle into the type of love which brings the terms settling to a distinctly new definition. I love my husband the way I love to run barefoot through grass. I love my husband the way I love to find shapes in clouds.

So when he came home yesterday telling me he needs more tests, that his back may be giving out not due to the degeneration of his discs which the VA insists is not a service related disfigurement, but because there may be a growth on his spine, well it felt fitting that the bright side of his diagnosis rests on the chance that the signs of a growth may be only a shadow.

For reasons I will not disclose in this portion of my writings: I feel like Faust. How beautiful it is to feel the skin of a lover who embraces you so whole, gentle on the blade of his fingers my cheeks, wisps of baby hairs, and the gentle swell of grey hairs spreading across our hairlines. How heartbreaking it is to put the plans to buy a home on hold because treatments cost so much money, and money doesn’t grow on trees nor has a history of populating my pockets for too long.

We used to sing together in his silver Elantra “it just takes some time…”, but the closer I get to whatever remains of my life the more I understand how time only takes. Every break I take risks breaking me as well as it can rejuvenate my body and mind. The fine line between resting and rusting, how I’ve made a living of walking its tight rope. And the bygones kept floating by.

We still sing together, more than ever. Only it’s in our white Buick. My only regret is that we didn’t realize that this was the best life could be. We went our separate ways for so long, and now we have no idea what’s left. It’s such a bittersweet kind of dream life.

Paige Six | 10.07.20