Fire I Cannot Build or Extinguish

March begins to bleed April light. It is no coincidence that Longing leans back into the orb that we are. I cannot foretell what offspring will come of this, but we are growing still, beloved. Can you not see?

Steel cut oats with chia seeds. Flat lime seltzer water left over from yesterday. My body is speaking louder than my mind – and my heart, louder yet.

Young squirrels gather bundles of leaves and race up the giant oaks. The dog is unfazed. She only moves now in hopes of a walk. Even food does not turn her head. Children play outside past suppertime, screeching away all of their caged angst. And the woodpeckers have begun their drumming. All these signs are mere life doing what it does and yet, I cannot un-tether from their chorus. They sing to me and remind me of a fire I cannot build nor extinguish.

When he was drunk he said that my obsession with music is annoying. When I was drunk, I told him that his beard hurts my face. Let me ask: do you think he shaved and do you think I keep my music preferences in a prison? We quickly moved on to a discussion about the Boot Strap Paradox in Back to the Future. But that's still about music, right?