When in moments, or in minutes, or in hours
When the safe shore of day, that you are home
Seems still so very far away;
When the waiting ache laps against my soul, and seeks
to trouble me with tears forever more
my poets soul reaches for thee;
That by some magic of poor words we might feel,
Closer to that day when we reach
That safe and happy shore.
What is this trembling that stalks my body so
Electric pain taking delight, making my body
Feel like a needful unknown stranger;
Clamouring, demanding, hiding me from myself
Replacing pieces of me with turbulence
Constricting and stretching muscle at will;
I close the door, it creeps in through the window
I lock the window and its porous gas seeps
through my skin, heat seeking;
Fog, moving through my head and scattering
My memories abroad, to seek asylum
And be discovered some other summer;
My will lines up its scarce resistance fearing
Useless dependence and told that it is
my feminine madness; a woman, hysteric.
Yet betwixt the stranger and that madness that some
seek to apply to me, and call it calm –
I sometimes weep quietly for your strong arm.
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