The Couple

Clouds tipping overhead

Heavens spilling forth their

bounty

love and tenderness seeps into

the ether

the couple watch the

air twirl their love into

a cyclone

towel wrapped ‘round their

naked bodies

sea water dripping from

their enlaced fingers

sand between their

toes

they lay

together

in love

Explosive

There’s a guy who’s in love with a woman

but he can’t tell her

There’s something wrong with his self-esteem

He has none!

Or maybe the timing just isn’t right yet

Timing is important with these things

Love can be volatile

Sometimes explosive

Fall

I sit and listen to the city sounds

alarms sounding, children crying

people dying while they sit patiently in anticipation

waiting to live

being born

falling in love

tying knots in the delicate strings that suspend

the shaky platforms that we live on

golden glass wings help us to fly

when they break, we fall

into the arms of loved ones

into the open meadows

and dark blue oceans

we fall in love

and fall out again

never falling completely

always afraid we will find ourselves

hopelessly

deeply

truly

in love

And then we realize

what greater joy than to love

what greater pain

what greater sorrow

what greater courage needed than to

allow one’s self to fall

never abandoning the self

but opening up to it

allowing your unicorn soul

to fall

in love

Waver

He had slept with her but swore he felt nothing for her

last night

trying to make a haven in her bed

sinewy muscles thumping, pumping in the darkness

sweat droplets conjoining into

miniature pools

teeth biting flesh

pulling on full lips

black hair

zigzag patterns of biological matter

spattering the white pillows and sheets

a flurry of swirls trying to jump ship

before drowning in the sea of her curves

sensing closeness

he stops his thoughts

he failed this Rorschach test

time to get out

Just Be There

Sitting at work

not much to say

back is sore

bloated

funny taste in my mouth

my friend is scared

his mum is waiting

for her results

cancer

lymphoma

scary stuff

who knows what will happen

all I can do is be there for him

have tea with him

pass him the milk

and the sugar

maybe make him smile

with some inane joke

or observation

best I can do

is just be there

Arianna Sebo (she/her) is a queer poet and writer living in Southern Alberta with her husband, pug, and five cats. Her poetry can be found in Kissing Dynamite, The Coachella Review, Ariel Chart, Capsule Stories, and Lucky Jefferson. Follow her at AriannaSebo.com and @AriannaSebo on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram.

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