Content After Our Talk

It is enough to watch a smile
dawn on your face, to hear your laugh
rise and draw light to the room.
I am content with this.
It is enough to dream I might flash
across your thoughts now and again.
It is enough to sometimes search
the deep dark wells that are your eyes.
It is enough.

Aching for Your Smile

I’m aching for your laugh, your smile.
To see your mouth turn up at the sides,
to see light dancing bright in your eyes.

I’m aching to see you happy.
I’m aching to feel your ease, your warmth,
your quiet appreciation.
To touch the edge of something bigger.

It’s just us two, sitting across a table,
discussing nonsense that makes up the day.
I am constantly making stupid jokes,
just to hear your laugh melt away my anxiety,
just to watch your expression soften,
just to feel this peace in my chest.

Little Things


People always say It’s the little things. It really is.
The little things give us the will to survive.
It’s the pink marmalade glow above the bay against the dark forest I walk through
on the way home. The frozen dirt beneath my boots is hard as concrete,
tap tap tap. Dripping icicles that dangle like fangs in the mouth of a cave.
The things like a child’s cherub face split wide in a grin or
a lilting melody that catches me off guard. The fire dancer swirling his flames in circles
and loops, igniting the air. People will stop to stare and applaud.
It’s the crunch of leaves beneath my sneakers, announcing autumn.
The birdsongs of dawn as I walk to school, alone on crisp mornings.
It’s the emptiness of the beach in winter, snow meeting sand.
The wind howling its favorite tune, bending around the boards of my house.
It is me clasping a mug of hot tea, a cat nestling into the lap of someone
talking soft into the phone. The flash of a stranger’s smile.
Sometimes I forget these things, but it seems that they always return.
They return when I need them most.


I’m trying to find a place
where I won’t be lonely. I’m trying
to find a place where I can be myself.
I’ve been looking for a long time for somewhere
people will understand me.

I’m trying to find a person
who I won’t be lonely with. I’m trying
to find a person I can show myself to.
I’ve been looking for a long time for this person,
and I know the search will last a while

have you seen happiness? I think
I lost it. Have you happened upon a smile?
I think I forgot mine, a few years ago. On a shelf
in a closet, when I was thirteen.
Can you show me where my
laughter ran away to?