James Friedman
When you reached for my hand
Pondering for less than a second to accept my invitation
I realized something within me had not stirred for quite some time
I gaze at the words collecting dust on my shelves
The volumes of lives I’d not ever lived
Wondering when I would join them
Sometimes I believed the cover had been closed on my life
I forgot a key ingredient of ink is sunlight
And for while candles calm and lamps burn
Lesser fires are extinguished
And nobody reads in the dark
I remember the story of Hanukkah
Where the survivors of tragedy waited eight days
And the oil meant for three nights
Fueled five more
The oil I use to write my longings and desires
My wondering, fears, and life entire dry
In all my time aging, I thought distance would save me
From the yelling, from the silence
I thought my life would be mine had I my own tomb to die in
Separate from the rest
So I waited there for eight days
And when that time was spent
I forgot my journey and stayed
Waiting for the sands of time to flay my skin and grind my bones to dust
To sit on a shelf
That was the point at which I had found myself
When the darkness was all that I could trust
Yet I don’t need sight to feel your hand
I don’t need thoughts to understand
How you make me feel when the sheets pull tight around us and I hold you close
You taught me how to love through the hurt
You taught me that love shouldn’t burn
That it kindles and preserves
When I chose you my dear, I know I chose love
Those were the terms I chose to paint my canvas on
That was the word I’d live my life for, that filled the starry night sky,
it was the word that set me free, had me reborn
And in your eyes I see the light of your soul which reaches ever higher
Past the galaxies beyond the farthest grasp of earthly fire
The source of light and warmth in a clueless menagerie of space and time through heartbreak and bloody breathing in corners and in bathroom stalls
Falling upwards into heaven when you breath life into my walls
All this and more
When I am in your company
Every heart beats my dear
But none moves me like yours
And the blood that runs through it
Is thicker than oil