so many song lyrics fell off the page,
spilled themselves into bright wild color,
the moment you wandered into the room
some bundle of months ago
all my poetry was lonely and wanting
even the most hopeful stanzas
stained with ache
’til the gray came to pause, glowing idea:
the next man to place flowers in my
open palms, already out there somewhere
lion stretched out beneath the gold-flecked sky,
can you fathom the fields of flowers you’ve left
planted in the wake of your touch, do you
notice the way i exhale poetry
after every inhale of you, the
soles of your feet against my outstretched leg,
hold my shoulders steady while you
sleep on the long train ride home
you are the spark of wild freedom
against the dimly lit dance floor, the
full body laughter echoing golden
ripples into the living room,
passion and purpose, the
flowers handed sweetly over
after the gentle kiss hello
i am writing, hands moving feverishly,
the fight to capture every inch of this,
snapshots of a life under sunlight,
flourishing, flourishing,
tectonic shifts frozen to this
young, free, breathless moment in time
michael king 