11 Mar Pottery Wheel

I found myself Sinking beneath the floorboards 

While you listened in —  

Taking valuable information.  

Furthering the reach  

In which your hands could go.  

Taking your fingers 

As you would mold the clay  

Of my terra-cotta heart.  

You would shape it  

Upward to form 

A cone  

And you would press 

Your thumbs into it  

To unearth its center.  

The clay spins for you, 

Moist as it dances 

Orbiting within your palms 

Like the universe, 

Like my heart – it knows your worth  

And conforms to your love effortlessly.  

And it dances,  

It dances.  

It dances  

To the rhythm that your fingers and feet make. 

Taking your time 

As you shape its bottleneck,  

Caressing and stretching 

the hollow gourd. 

To hold your love. 

To hold your heart –  

A space large enough for yourself  

To fit inside.   

I had become a part of  

Your pottery wheel  

Which you spent a great deal of time on.  

It wasn’t just about  

What you could make  

Of my heart  

Or what I could make of yours, 

But what we could make together.  

I wished to be glazed  

With a wash of your colors. 

I wished to be warmed  

By the fire from the kiln  

That is your soul. 

I wished for us to no longer be two halves,  

But one whole.  

Without you,  

I too am incomplete.  

Incomplete enough to know  

That you are worth  

Every heartbeat. 

Every breath.  

Everything I decide I may do next. 

Every step forward, 

And at best,  

A step forward with you just is.  

It is a step worth taking,  

Because within you,  

I have found home.