light between

I’m here for the gold rush, baby.

I want you to read to me
Your memoir
Not your fiction.
I want to know when you were afraid
And the first time you dared to take the keys.
I want to feel your leave-taking
And that drive
And what song was playing when you cried both
Cursing and praising and making new promises to God.
I want to know how you recognized your road.
I want to know where you got lost, and how you returned from decision paralysis to determine that you were the captain now, and you will draw your own damn map, and wasn’t that a prayer answered?

Give me the names of the stones that hit your face, and the one you pushed up the mountain. Show me the scar where it crushed you. Tell me the first words you heard her say when you knew you were
Alive

I want to know how you cracked open the world and learned to sing its pain.

Your truth spoken
Gives rise to my voice.
I want to hear your song
And find the harmony.

I want to install streetlights
The old, golden kind
On the unexpected roads between us.