Marshall DeFor Poet Free verse

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sunrise ritual

an early mourning stroll, and hours spent passing through as many neighbourhoods,

and sometimes you sob so
violently that you cannot contain
noises breaking past your lips, sounds
usually repressed. sometimes you can only
sob while pacing the streets, and sometimes you
must spend hours shaking, shaking, pacing the streets.

step after step. you roll your shoulders, gasp;

     i think of making you a playlist. i think about the order of the
     songs so i can communicate to you my witness. oh,
     how precious you are. my Love, we sit on secrets. there is more
     to say, that which surpasses language. perhaps, music could help
     approximate; and Dearest, i digress.

     not a playlist. a poem instead,
     gracelessly splattering ink
     in an attempt at abstraction,
     to bring another viewpoint of Love into focus.
     just for you.

the house gardens contain miracles.

wrong pillow. neck knot. ache.

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