Poetry Wednesday – Jump In by Shayna Stock

VIA Rail through the Rockieswe are at the foot of the Rocky Mountains
cradled in steel and ViaRail hospitality

as i gaze up at the colossal beauty of you
i feel like a frightened, awe-struck frog
held tenuously in the sweaty hands of a curious child

i’ve lost my wits and my guts to giants like you
driven by fits of lust, i’ve skydived headfirst into heartbreak
and i can feel my croaking innards bracing for the long fall

but the moxie-mischief in your face
and your tantalizing stoic grace
leave me stuck
calculating the remainder i’d get
if i were to long-divide my amphibian heart
into your igneous charm
and whether that’d be enough to make it worth
the certain harm
while your river-rock lips
speak more quickly than i can hope to istn
about art and patriarchy
between long sips of whiskey

on the table between us, etched in blue ink
“err on the side of caution”
an old piece of advice from someone who’s forgotten
what it’s like
to feel the accelerated heartbeat of another creature in your hands

the train speeds into the shadowy curves of the Rockies
i throw caution to the wind
inhale with every edge of skin
and jump in

and the next thing i know
your dripstone fingers are carving invitations to bliss
along meridian lines i didn’t know existed
while my cold-blooded heart hotly swims
through the quaking ecstasy that ripples through your body

and when i reach the place just over your peak
where green canopy opens into endless horizon
i realize
i had the wrong equation
i’d been dividing myself into you
but i should have used multiplication

i hold you in the web of my sweaty hands
and when you crumble
into a trembling puddle at my feet
i smile
calculate nothing
inhales with every edge of skin
and jump in

~ Shayna Stock from “jump in poems by Shayna Stock” 2012