Domestication (July 2017)
My wandering heart traveled
Through cold, rusty dilapidated doors,
And across purple and orange fiery horizons,
My love creeped on all fours.
Savage, thoughtless, it drifted
Through screeching, viscous dark of night,
It licked hungry lips and clenched razor teeth,
Finding You, it sat on the edge of Your light,
And its fearsome mouth, built for gnashing,
Became beautiful when it spoke Your name.
Over years Your beauty spread its lovely red stain,
And just like the scent of sweet orange blossoms,
Sun baked leather, musky horse sweat,
And dusty wet wind blowing ahead of desert rain,
You too came to occupy the tiny box
Labeled "Home" in my brain.
Couple words about this one. It's probably my favorite thing I've ever written. It's this kind of a cliché idea that one's "home" can be a person, but call me a cliché because the experience of meeting and getting to know someone you truly and fundamentally trust and are comfortable with is both a figurative adoption of a new home, and an actual domesticating force; I chose to change on a deep level when I met her. The trajectory of my life was permanently altered, and my priorities changed. In the end it didn't matter; my changes didn't make our relationship work, anymore than they caused the break, but I kept the changes, and I remember her fondly, because it is true that someone can make you want to change to become the best version of yourself. Enjoy.
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