Courting Bedlam by Myriam San Marco

I wish I knew why the world around us is preoccupied with celebrity and videos of cats.
The complicated issues that matter to you, they take too much focus away from sexting, snapchat, binge-watching the next hot vampire series…The truth?
The truth is hard to watch, hard to speak, hard to listen to.
And all that distracts is so attractive.
But within each person there is a world webbing out, reaching others, creating reactions, making connections. We have a voice. You are a world. I am you and you are me. But if a voice is not used, a truth not spoken or heard, then a whole world is lost. We all are the no man in no man’s land. Lost, tired, crazy.
It almost seems not worth it. Almost.
Me, I’m in it for the stillness of summer, the warmth of sand, sun on your skin, the drop of sweat that rolls and pools on your stomach.
I bring you heat, turn all the levels to 11, sneak tiny shocks of static down my fingertips. I will catch you when you fall, and show you how to burn.
I’m in it for the fire.
I’m in it for the heartbeats, the legs stretched, in veins, scars and smiling teeth.
I’m in the one step closer, the dance, the skin to skin, hand to hand, head on a shoulder. I’m in the breathing in the scent of another. I’m in it for the whispers, the subtext, the blank page, the smell of a new notebook, in the poems written till hands cramp and words hit the floor.
I’m the shake of your hands.
I’m the bend of your knees.
I’m the taste of your lips.
I’m the mess of your bed.
I’m the Poetry.
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