August 7th, 2014

You are my God. Where shall my heart go but to your throne?
I have found it hiding in desert caves on vacant nights and
cowering in lovers' arms when the moon's hollowed eyes stare
blinklessly through the naked window. I have found it wandering
a forest it no longer belongs to in which there are many traps and
the leaves whisper ghost stories to each other as it passes. These
places no longer hold their hands out in gentle invitation, but
rather they offer the embrace of a prison. So, my God, you are
where this lost heart must abide, but to lasso it and reel it in is
work for a strong and fearless one, and that I am not. I will fight
every demon but my own and lie bleeding out my fruitless victory
as the night bears down on me, and that is when they gather, the
bloodsuckers, the thirsty fears. So, take me because I can not take
myself. Here I am, lead me into your courts and burn me clean.



August 6th, 2014

The moon, although it is hazed, turns the tall grasses gold in its almost-full light. The clouds
around it are lit like the edge of the sea that barely reaches the light from shore. This is so 
beautiful you cry, too loud, with a moan that comes from a deeper place than you have known recently, a place even deeper than your well of sadness. Sure Alex says, as if he is so accustomed
to this beauty, that it is a fact and to speak of it is redundant. Caitlin trails behind and takes
pictures of the sky. Your soul feels a little less bruised, it has been elevated and iced and tended
to by them, with food and drink and basketball and a moonlit hike, and no matter what happens,
and even if they don't know it, this is what it means to be okay. Still there are tides coming in at
this time of year that wash away all the monuments to your freedom you've been building out
of sand all summer long. It is hard to hear your own foot fall on the hiking trail and breathe
in the sweet smell of grass and leaves and feel your body respond to the air as it brushes your
neck and breast and not think of him. It's all the moments of the lifetime you lived together, the
small moments, that fall like waves against you, but the rip tide is not very strong now, and you
will last longer than its pull.