April 7: Learning Love

"whether with a lover or none.

i reek of love.

i stink of love."

(nayyirah waheed)

I am learning

that to live without love

is the greatest sin.

It is harder to learn

that the intoxication

of another's neck, or

the comfort of arms,

or the shiver and smile,

the tremble and touch, 

the anticipation of love

is not 

love.

It is hard to learn

to be alone, to know

that my life is mine alone.

It is hard to forgo the easy

rush of learning another's lips

like a new language. Hard to

not travel into spaces of intimacy

far too soon, with too little caution.

I am learning to reclaim

my body for myself, learning

to live in this country of skin

and cage of bones, this map 

of longing and restlessness.

I am learning love

in the insistence of my eyes,

in the hollows of my mouth.

I am learning to fall in love

with the days of sun when 

there is meaning and joy

simply in watching the sun light up

the amber edges of a stranger's hair, 

or in the easy stillness of a fly 

resting on a table, or in catching

myself laughing

while walking alone

from some corridor to another.