To Empty Myself Upon This Earth Like the Clouds

It’s raining but eventually it won’t be.
Not raining but eventually it will.
Tempted, I walk outside
one grey, wet step after another,
following hunger. Someone
recently told me not everyone
longs like this. Can’t imagine.
Each cloud contains the pulse
of the stars behind it. There is only
one cloud, obscuring only all,
backlit by the moon. Always
I wear this raincoat of desire
and ash. You are so far away.

Ode to Infidelity

it’s only ever been you but jesus there are so many versions of me
climbing into this bed every night

they say people behaving extravagantly want to be caught
all I want is to be held

what are you looking for when you climb onto me
what late-night sounds wake you

is it too warm in here
is it me

I’m calling no one else’s name
no one else is answering

all I want is you to look at me
tell me something true

about this life we’ve built
one slow rhyme after another

one small patient lie at a time
one warm-hot night at a time

tell me I’m right
about what it means to be touched

Love Poem

There’s a song with your name in it
but I can’t listen to it

with anyone else in the room.
You slide your fingers

into my mouth and pull out
another word for this lake

we’ve made of our lives.
Each summer it goes drought-dry:

cracked field of mud,
surface of a strange planet.

What is left to say
about such distance?

What to say about rain
that our bodies don’t already know?

John Doe
Poet, Independent Writer
IN CONVERSATION WITH
Amorak Huey