My heart is breaking open
Like an orange.
Sweet, wet, etcetera.
Down with metaphor!
Let me say things
As they are.
It has no color, taste, or smell.
It is a physical sensation,
A pressure from the inside.
Who am I?
What is my true name?
I am coursing through my life
Without even a dream of what comes next.
I’VE STARTED WRITING POETRY AGAIN
What good are poems?
I want to believe that love is something that matters,
That when you hold me all night
You will have held me all night.
That a calm toddler can sit on Christmas Day
And open his presents one by one.
Marriage beds, dancing
Like sugar plums, like
The sweetness of beds,
A too-true eye connect,
The dreams you dream
In someone else’s arms. These pictures
Float past like bits of nothing (almost nothing?)
In a particle accelerator.
How could I forget?
I observe, your tangled legs.
Your heart, that shape on the Valentine
Ticking like a bomb.
What is in this room?
Is there anything of mine?
Will I leave anything behind?
My coat, my eyeglasses, my stain.
You never want to miss anything
But you want to be missed.
I’ve started writing poetry again.
Eli Rarey is Ohio Edit’s Magazines and Media Expert. He has lived in New York, Santa Rosa, Dublin, Reykjavik, Los Angeles, and his own mind. He is available for parties, weddings, and bar mitzvahs. His feature film, The Famous Joe Project, is out now iTunes.