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SpiritualAnimal, the workshop of Brett Engle


You are not mine but you are my gentle
(in my arms, exiting my apartment,
hands that won't leave)
love.

I know
you wear your freedom like the clasp of a necklace
back there
and I see it as you go.

Days pass, you still aren't mine
yet
(your traffic patterns)
I say the roads know otherwise.

Paths from your place to mine,
are head to toe
Affection travels the short distance like blood
(two hearts)
that ultimately changed course.

There is so much I'll never know about you
(alternate routes)
We are free
in a world that is the perfect stranger.

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Included in the book: Beside Myself, Words + Art
Read more poetry on the writing page.
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