1:11am It's Never Too Late for Poetry

Dear A,

Do you remember this poem? I wrote it for you after reading Pablo Neruda's poem called "Here I Love You" but decided to change the meaning by adding a comma after "here." As part of my Teaching of Writing/Writing Non-fiction class, we do a one hour workshop in small groups after 3 hours of class. My group decided that our workshop would focus on poetry and we've been bringing in poems each week to share with one another. It's very low stakes. We just sit around eating snacks and talking, and for this week, I brought in your poem.

My group members loved it. In past weeks, we've engaged in a lot of constructive criticism, but they had only the best things to say about this one. Of course, I didn't tell them who it was for or what the context was in which it was written. I actually didn't tell them anything at all, but they totally got the message. Once I explained the Pablo Neruda thing, they liked it even more.

I am quite proud of it, actually...

Here, I love you.

Take everything.

Take every inch of intimacy given

as fingers find their way across the softest skin

and into the farthest reaches

of lonely, late-night islands longing to be

discovered

wandered

beach-combed by beating hearts.  

Take every exhale.

Fill your sails with aspiration

breathed out and bound by the rigging

of interlaced ideals and intention.

May this love never anchor you

anywhere

but the harbor in the heart

of my ocean.

Take the violent storms and whirlpools

of frothy misconception. Take the tempest tides.

Let my waves crest and crash

across the bow of your forgiveness.

We are no shipwreck.

This broken boat still floats.

Here, I love you.

Take everything from helm to stern.

Take time to circumnavigate

our world. Then land, marooned

in my arms. 

This is where

I love you. Here.

I guess you inspire the poetry in me.

Love, M