Aftershock

I woke in your arms like

An earthquake – two
Tectonic plates
Caught together, straining
In opposite directions
That finally
Slip – 
My room was dark
And I couldn’t feel you
Breathing. 

The complications of being two:

Today a friend asked me what my favorite literary works are. Of course, I have so many I didn't even know where to start, and I wasn't at home to simply walk over to my bookshelf and begin reading titles to her. I decided to pull up my virtual bookshelf in hopes of having some titles to share, so I opened my Goodreads account.
I haven't been to Goodreads in years. I like the site, I like what it does, how people can share what they're reading, post reviews, etc. But like most things on the interweb, I never really committed to using it; in fact, I was only really active on Goodreads during the summer of 2007, when the boy I liked was on it, too, and it was a way for me to feel connected to him.
(I'm happy to report that he and I are still connected, as firm friends.)
Anyway, in revisiting my Goodreads account today, I found several old poems I'd forgotten about. I'll post a couple of them here in the next few days. They are all, of course, about the aforementioned boy.

The complications of being two:

You called it “awkward arm” –
How, even with our legs braided tight
We could never be as close as we 
Wanted. 
The size of the bed, 
The town,
Our circles of friends who “couldn’t understand”
And the way we looked
Nothing alike.
I guess proper couples are supposed to.
Then,
An ocean, determined to swallow you
and days days days days days
apart,
their echoes overwhelming the few we had together.
But you realized, eventually,
That we could sleep just fine on the floor.