did not expect what's happened hard to me

because I'm dead

and everything is over

bar the shouting —

this full-bore hit of longing, love, and lust

no warning

inappropriate in every single way

awkward ill-timed crude

completely uninvited —

would surely be distasteful

freakish wrong

to wise calm distant object of my sudden swelling love

if he knows — oh god does he already know?

if he can see it, if it shows — but how can it be hid?

it's huge, it hurts, it's terrible

has brought back weeping, all my brutal rampant acid tears

(iron spile that stoppered them destroyed, forced open now)

has brought on waves of happy silly dizzy joy,

has brought out hot desire, absurd explicit aching wetlip need,

and caring, fearing, cold sweat dread of disapproval —

all the daylit stuff bereavement strangled, crushed, undid. . .

all of that come back, it seems, so wildly! all at once

flipping back and forth and back again

like power surging on some crazy errant switch

the sparkling itself may kill me now

the heart thump chills, the coruscating shocks

the shudder fear of what's to come,

that nothing is to come

just pain (more pain, can I still bear more pain?)

and loss, and shame — and yet it's beautiful

so fucking beautiful I start singing

there beneath sweet sun, in warmth

on newly fragrant flower-laden streets as I walk home

breathe sweetness after seeing him

so very suddenly

that first bright springtime day

***

for rwb, 6/7/2022