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Christmas Lights

 

If I could tell you one thing to make you feel better, 

well, who am I kidding, I wouldn’t stop at one.  

I’d make myself home in your misery

to humor you with metaphors and analogies

I'd blurt stupid jokes that’ll hold the weight of the difficulties. 


I’d place my palm 

or maybe just the tip of my fingers 

on your chest, 

or head, 

or back

to remind you you’re not alone. 


I’d give you hugs that feel like you’ve finally arrived 

And I’d apologize that love wasn’t around all this while. I’m here now; 

A makeshift work-in-progress version of love 

that’s insecure and smells like weed sometimes;  

a love that can’t stop munching and asks you to repeat yourself 17 times 

because the network is too bad, and love doesn’t want to let anything go. 


A love that misses your play;

A love that writes below-average poems but sends them your way;

A love that reads too much self-help and rants about the same.


A love that hopes for a better future, 

and yet 

wants you to notice the light that’s already there. 


Tell me love, 

Can we pause? 


London is broody and way too cold 

But there’s Christmas lights there too, right?

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