lines written during a mental poetic rambling...

you and i. we are.
thrown up and tossed around.
like some
vessel, perched atop the crest,
of a distinct, formed. yet chaotic
wave.
in these seas of lust and passion.
and we did/nay tried to entreat
to tame that wave,
make something from this tangible
and physical, nothing.
but when we were surrounded,
by dark,
when all the lights were down.
there was just your voice
and, my hand.
no room to stir,
and no firm plan.
there was no safe/hold
for your tears and my grief,
and, i took loose reprieve in
shelters, room-edged and false.
and, you played fiddles strange.
and danced quietly around my truths.
we. us. you. me. who were like
some shineless glee,
came to some water/rocked places.
like that same vessel,
but beaten and broken. down.
into a nothingness,
that could only hold our
fears and tears and no moons or suns,
and no places of wholeness.
i walked downpaced from that place
and moved toward.
me.
we pushed us to be
free.

Jason Christopher Johnson