listing things (poem)

What makes me come alive? Love.
In every guise.
In diapers, or sneakers, or a fancy dress showing too much cleavage

Playfulness, in all it's forms- sarcasm, unexpected and ridiculous connections, goofy faces, puns...

Passion- full of teasing almost touches, imaginary moments filled with body paints, moisture magic, flushed cheeks and inside jokes.

Words- words strung together
With rhythm and hope
Alliteration and literal beats
Pulling you into
Slight swaying steps
Forcing your fingers to find
The volume.
Turn
It
Up
Let your body live within the motion's waves

I'm adrift, yes.
Fluttering from one small
Imagined moment of connection
To each of these ideas

Searching while simultaneously
Afraid
To search

A hundred times inside a thousand
Tries for each of these.

I
Will
Not
Lay
Down the sword
      that is
Myself

I am
And have always been

A warrior

Even when things around me shatter
And are quiet

Softly broken screams
Of womblike wonder
Tethered tightly
To a community
Encouraging, enabling energy to fill
Some
Empty places

But not all

Corners are left cavernous
Since the things
That would fill these
Particular
Crevices

Come from the list
That makes me alive.

The list that exists
To be filled
By you.