Cold dawn, groggy good morning hellos
muddled consonants and misshapen vowels
eyes barely open, hair blading loosely down your cheek
water dancing in the kettle, lazy pirouette of steam
Sitting down for breakfast, you beside me
standing beneath icicles, catching their drips
thawing our cheeks in the shadow of a volcano
washing our feet in the panama sea
together, because we are the very same thing
I know you like ten thousand years knows a second
like lightning knows every crack in the sky
like a bird on a branch knows a song
on Wednesdays—even on Wednesdays
even when I forget that I know, I still know
even on Wednesdays, I know I love you so.
I’m normally against using the word love in a poem (because it both seems too easy and it’s just not a thing I’d do), but in this case I convinced myself that using the cutesy, sweet little rhyme at the end was like adding frosting to a cupcake rather than dumping a bowl of sugar into that horrible Oreo Salad stuff that people bring to potlucks.
‘standing beneath icicles, catching their drips’
A Line that I Like, but Almost Cut:
‘water dancing in the kettle, lazy pirouette of steam’
p.s. I didn’t capitalize Panama because it looked bad capitalized. I’m rationalizing this decision by claiming in this case ‘panama’ is an adjective that is describing a sea, rather than a proper noun referring to a sea near Panama. My road, my rules.