Trampoline Net

a poem for a love lost, a love I will never lose, and... a trampoline.

In thrifted pants
unwashed
arms a flurry of fiber and sinew

I'm better now
a promise
a truth
a self lie

There is a bird that follows me
and sings like the creak of a rusted swing chain
she is evil and beautiful 

My love is less limited now 
I think I misunderstood what limitless was
what this feeling is
now
here

Unwashed
thoughts burden me sometimes 
but I know whatever happens today and tomorrow and the next week 
the bird outside my window will sing

and it will be horrible 
and I will feel divinity then
in the palm of my hand 
like yours was

I have never been this loved and its scary
to sit on this woven plastic
in the calm of night
and hear the cicadas scream 

to feel complete at my messiest 
to feel my best after a big cry
to place my hand on the curve of your hips

What a sickly joy to list my woes
and be met with someone so recklessly hellbent on fixing every last one so I never know pain for a second 

I think I understand now
I think everything happened as it was meant to
and your love is the best thing I've known