When I Became Love

When I Became Love                                                                        Emily Kell 2010


I see the triangles everywhere

glinting off the facets of my daisy paved heart


my circular atmosphere


a reluctant start

until gravity gives birth to motion

slipping into a rally of unkempt promises

silent and spoken

for you and for me and for all of the hopeless romantics

all of the peter pans and lost boys that prefer the lucid defiance of dreams to the angular semi-truths of daily life


so fragile

that they make you shudder and laugh quietly like some blue shadow on the plaster wall

with the hole in it hovering before the cold tile ground

where we lay in the time when life had not left behind light in your hardboiled eyes


would you leave me here

in this field of many tangled tides

the moon, a stony mirror

paved with the broken glitter of my thighs


on one of those star bitten nights

when I can see the sick spiral

the same way that you can see the milky way

when you’re in it

a night

when I seem to forget how old my soul is

and how young my soul is

as I try to break free from a destiny of living limited humanity

I see

so many words rendered obsolete by their meaning


the moment “Love” drips from my lips it splits into a colorful conduit of comprehension

an off kilter filter destined toward definition

through your own crazed maze of lust and betrayed trust


but, I think I touched love once

I grazed the gentle tooth of her skin with the indigo embers of my existence

wide eyed with electric finger tips


the moment was an island


and the moon

the crickets were like drops of thunder


the memory is harvested with echoes of shattered symbiosis

but if you look at it like this


you can see the laughter in every disaster


and when you wake to find that you are still dreaming

and you manifest your arrival to the fork in the dream

you find yourself redeemed

for every challenged notion that you nurtured in the face of doubt

and watch your fear fray

into fibers

to weave ropes of hope



here I am, twisted in this tangle

scraping at the right angles

when all I really want to be and to feel is


bathed in the moment

when I Became