Work in Progress
My house is a work in progress
a structure
a deconstruction
I move slowly sometimes
and then a miracle might burst suddenly
right near my…
windows never let in enough light
always seem to be keeping something from me
I get angry sometimes
but every now and then
bliss tumbles over me unexpectedly
and I touch your…
bed is not always made
but that doesn’t bother me
our clutter and stacks of memories
take up valid space
equally cause our moments
of ease & disease
My heart is a work in progress
a muscle
a bloody source
I like to imagine
your favorite past time might be
to read poems to me
from right outside my shower door
-the words get worked
into my weary skin-
Without scent, their texture
is your voice
fluid & gentle
uncomplicated magic
This love is a work in progress
a deep well
a constant struggle
we share its common misery
eat from the same plate
agree on its delicate nature
quietly celebrate its unique joy
by softly touching our…
instincts might confuse us sometimes
hang heavy like the air tonight presses down
offers no relief
provides no resolution
has no miracles, no bliss, no magic
But if I lie quietly in my bed
windows open, stripped to the skin
move only to the rhythms
I remember of your breath as you sleep,
all of this city’s lovers can be heard
a chorus of construction
building with each breath
a new balance
creating with each climax
a new color
to add to every work in progress
the masterpiece not quite finished
the melody not quite perfected
the memory not quite captured
©2000 Lizzie Wann. All rights reserved