the problem of beating

the problem of beating

i cried
all the way
over the bridge

it wasn’t exactly
that you snapped
or the long string
of her angry texts
or the emails
i had hoped to get

it wasn’t any of that
exactly

it might have been
the way the light
gets caught in the
​wildfire smoke
and i’m down here
starving for brightness

or something about the way
we let intent be obscured
by the daily miscommunications
and before you hung up the phone
all i wanted to say was

i love you

in between the beat down of the work day
and the things i maybe should have done
between the questions
and the long silence

i love you

it’s ok to cry
it means this broke heart
still wrestles with the problem
of beating

it means i still stare
through the thick
like a star might break it

it means after all
the issues and every
problematic potential
and after misuse
and abuse and after
the goddamn parking meter
didn’t take my quarters

i love you/her/myself

and nothing
can block that
out