Escape Velocity

You beat me again
         and again I run
and again I return
to the famil­iar com­fort of
ter­ror and the bruis­es you leave
     and I leave
     on you
     on me.

[no this is not about my life, for]

we jump not toward the sky
but away from the earth;
a moment of tear­ing,
a prim­i­tive need like
pen­e­tra­tion or
face deep in the fold of a pil­low
breath­less
the strain against the atmos­phere
the eager joy of pos­si­bil­i­ty
that fray­ing sense that
     this time
     we will
              break through
     be free
     of this earth we love.

[and again I fall
through the famil­iar
com­fort of ter­ror
and back into your arms]


Since I’m not code­pen­dent I could be way off base here with my asso­ci­a­tion between it and the attrac­tion of grav­i­ty, but I also tried to do things in this poem that I nor­mal­ly don’t do in oth­er ones, expand­ing thoughts into mul­ti­ple images, and being what I think of as more cliché in my sub­ject mat­ter and expo­si­tion. By that I guess I mean I’m try­ing to write with less intent and more instinct. Feed­back is wel­come, since I don’t real­ly know what is going on here.

4 Replies

  • I’ll answer that with anoth­er ques­tion if you don’t mind. Have you ever loved some­thing that is bad for you?

    Your ques­tion does bring to light a weak­ness though…

  • I know what you’re try­ing to con­vey, I’m just not sure if love is the right word for this poem. I feel like the line in ques­tion shouldn’t be about how “we” feels- that already per­me­ates through­out, but how the earth feels about we. It’s anoth­er oppor­tu­ni­ty to make a sim­i­le or metaphor for the earth’s grav­i­ty. What­ev­er. I’ve been away from writ­ing work­shops for far too long. 🙂

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