Posts in 31poems
Disappointment

There was a time when

All I held between these two hands

Was soft

 

Did life change or

my hands

 

Now all I touch

crumbles like ashes of a once living thing

 

Are we worms,

turning, consuming, changing the world

back to food for some other life,

hiding from the light,

playing our part in the

cycle.

 

Am I like those two eyes,

bitter, longing,

turning you to stone.

 

Am I like the sour boiling,

fermenting which could

in one way become your

intoxication or your sustenance,

and in another

rotting and filling you with

a smell ripe yet close to death.

31poems, poetryMegan Jones
Your questions, not your answer

Asking

My body is not a question,

but you turn each part of me into one,

then another, and another.

Ask

who, you aren’t asking me.

You form answers to the questions you make from my body.

You form them on your lips,

You form answers,

for yourself

when you walk toward or away from me.

when you tilt your head

when your mind fills with your own stories

those you made.

 

You are asking me,

thinking we are speaking,

still in conversation like the flow of

our blood, resonant

 

You are asking

yourself.

 

Are your questions big enough

when my body is the answer.

31poemsMegan Jones
Blend

To be both and,

all.

To be holding releasing,

generating.

Say this is more than

two variables coming together,

addition like that makes

an absence or

an infinite possibility out of

what was

to make what is or will be,

to make this,

this one.

To be a spiral, holding both no beginning and end,

and all the beginnings and ends.

And you and I together

aren’t one.

And we are.

Touching.

Agreeing, believing we are agreeing

seeing, reflecting.

Becoming part of one,

Our hearts shaping each other, as one.

To be unbound.

Is that the same as free?

31poemsMegan Jones
I want movement

I have felt you with all of me.

Now all I want is inside me,

moving.


I want

movement, I want

my own blood, autonomous. I want

To take my breath away, be new.

To feel my gravity,

out from under your gaze.

I want out.

—I want movement.


Everything moves.

I am movement. Remember.

31poemsMegan Jones