That Missing Part of Him

Does she know?

Doesn’t she feel it,

That piece of him that has gone missing, again?

Where does it go, where does he take it and who does he give it to?

Does she know?

I know.

It isn’t lost, I have captured it.

I hold that missing part of him.

The part that she is missing.

The part he gives only to me.

The pieces of him that I can’t have are far greater than the one she misses,

but at least I know what to name it.

The Light of a Million Suns

His hands are weightless,

His smile, eternal.

His eyes hold all the stars in the universe, the light of a million suns.

His energy charges every cell in my body and

his love powers and drives my nightly dreams.

When he speaks to me, his words feel like a warm soft blanket

draped with love over my shoulders.

His voice comes to me in the silence of meditation telling me to stop,

to let it all go.

He tells me that good will only come to me after I throw out and reject the darkness.

He watches in silence and sadness as I try but fail over and over…

He knows he can’t do it for me.

I know I can’t do it for myself.
   

A Story I Tell Myself

A Story I Tell Myself

It is a story I tell myself.

I repeat it over and over until

it becomes my story, my plan, my hope and

for a while, just a little while,

I am able to convince myself that it’s all true.

It sinks in, it makes sense, it’s easy and right.

Yet it remains just a story I tell myself but

Sometimes,

sometimes,

Even he believes it.