A Labyrinth

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Holy, the eternal kindness of the soul!
What kind of kindness,
is this kindness,
if this is kindness at all,
to be a being harnessed to a soul?

Is it a concept or can it be something real,
if it is only something that I feel,
not with my hands,
or even with my mind?
I feel my soul with my soul,
and that’s not how you are supposed to define a thing,
or at least that’s what I have been told.

Define soul.
Define God.
Define thing.
Define me.

Definitions are opinions,
like math and medication and history.
Progress and regress.
Reason and truth.
These are what we live by.

So you can spout your logic,
but I will stand by my soul.
Today I walked a blind Arab girl to class.
Her hand was warm to hold.

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I know that someday,
too soon,
I am going to wake up,
wishing that your green eyes,
were scolding me from waking you up before noon.
Then I will wish,
that I let our short tryst,
play out.
Play long,
play strong,
maybe I was wrong.

Its not you,
its me,
well,
partially.
I am not sure we have parallel goals,
I think we might be angled,
and I don’t want to get too tangled,
when I am not sure if the ground I am on is solid.
I need to secure some things,
cure some things,
do research,
construct a plan,
in a few months,
I might,
might be ready then.

This was too quick,
and you are slick,
and smooth,
but sweet and true.
Crap, I am gonna miss you.
A man who can tango,
who can take the lead,
the kind of man who is hard to find,
the kind that I think I need.

I don’t wanna tease you,
don’t want to keep you on a reel,
but as my cycle turns,
in those lonely days,
I might feel,
like I could be ready,
before I am ready,
so I hope you can be steady,
because I am not standing on solid ground.
I wouldn’t forgive myself,
so don’t let me pull you down.

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