Love Poem

for J

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Have we ever
had clear vision?
Clarity is bullshit.
Maybe a person
has had a good
amount of
coffee or feels
clearheaded
postcoitally,
but clear water
& clear air are
full of necessary
mess. Like we
are. This knot
in my shoulder
does not look
a simple clove hitch.
Would we love
the sky so
much if there
were no stars?
Really though
fish pee is good
for coral reefs.
Is having
no idea our love’s
first quality?
Always flying
down dark ass
turny waterslides?
How could I
have ever
imagined slices
of peaches slipping
through shower
curtains for me
to slurp? Or is
slowness our
number one?

Like the hard
to get at the
meat of nubbins
of ginger on the
larger ginger nub
that must first
be sliced off
the main meat
and then its jacket
delicately cut
out which is most
of the nubbin
to be honest you
aren’t left
with much, but
it is just as good
and is it maybe
more spicy, more
tender? Does it
matter so long
as it feels that way?
Was the peach
more juicy
than I’d had
because it was
touched by
shower water?
Did you lick
it before proffering?
I hope so.
Or even just look
at it, slice it
better than I
could, keeping
the juices in,
& originally pick
the best one
of the bunch
like I can never?
What did I
come here to do
but to love
you more.