When I look at you
Something inside of me churns,
Something wet and heavy and wild;
What is it that I want? What is it
That I will give up so much to experience?
It is a losing battle, I will never
Win or be won: but for now, the journey,
The long slow march to the field,
The heartbeat as cadence and the slow sun
Sliding across tamped-down forest paths:
For now this is the solution, the respite,
A clear break in the conscious acceptance
Of what my life is allowed to be.