keith jarrett

i think i would like to do anything with my whole body.
just once.
for my brain and my heart to commune instead of carouse,
for my mouth to follow the leadership of my hands,
for the bend of my back to angle towards the sound of the music.
i think i would like to be wholly one person
just once.

When I am honest
(At my most brutal)
I know that you are nothing.
I know I will not make different choices because of you,
I will not change any of my destructive behaviors because of you.
When I am honest I know
That I am nothing, a flash of pale light
In a cosmos lit by the suns and the stars and
The churning and heavy heat of combustion.
Yet inside of this knowledge
Are all the petty desires that drive me,
Towards money and status and security
And sex.
When I can't succeed at work, when I can't
Keep a friendship together or a relationship from failing
And when I can't put together an existence that doesn't disgust me--
I can still make a man moan, make him shake
Between my legs, that small accomplishment
of someone else's pleasure, and sweat.
If you are the embodiment of the only power I have left, the only sure thing,
I am more likely to go than stay.

You are a weight on my heart, impending loss that I don't understand the depth of...

Guess it's true I'm not good at the one night stand
And maybe I don't sleep to make
Minutes into mirrors, magic out of hours.
In daylight I am vicious, hardened,
But in this dim room
Between your dark sheets
I can be malleable, delicate, desiring.
While you sleep I compile
Your smiles, your words, your sounds
Into a single silver plate,
Twilit metal hammered out
To the beating of your heart.
Tomorrow I'll be strong, I'll be funny, I'll be
Brief, slipping out just before you tire of me.
But in these last few hours, just
Let me rest awhile, with you.

the world is this huge and amazing place
with seven million people doing
several hundred thousand different activities

at the forefront of my mind
the most important thing i can think

i don't love you any more

i guess that's okay

i have always wanted to pick you up at the airport
somewhere between exiting security and the baggage claim
you would be walking towards me
our eyes would meet at exactly the right moment
or maybe
i would see you first, would see your tired eyes
and the heavy bag in your hand before
you would see my face light up with pleasure
at being reunited:
in the least realistic of these fantasies i am wearing
something inexplicably sexy, perfect makeup,
something that would make me look skinny.
maybe this is why
the fantasy can't ever be fulfilled, though you and i
cross the miles between us so regularly:
i am not skinny, my mascara
regularly runs and clumps, and i won't wear heels
when i know i'll be traipsing down long hallways
before clambering back towards public transit,
and flying makes us both
too tired to recognize pleasure in reuniting.
i have always wanted to pick you up at the airport
as a perfect person, offering a perfect home,
though i am not, and cannot.
this does not prevent me from lighting up
whenever you enter the room, and you have never failed
to come back to me.