Progress

After reuniting with my first love after a clumsy split, I found myself not being able to scrap the image of that first familiar look at him. I wrote this poem in regards to all of the thousands of times I had seen him prior to our reunion, yet the moment I saw him again, it was as if he was a new specimen. This poem is about the hope that brews in the pit of your stomach after making up with an intense lover and the heartbeats your heart disregards when the person you love reciprocates and magnifies your own feelings.

Progression
by Katherine Racine


I see you in the basement,
 pen and paper in hand.
The smoke that fills the air,
The music that swirls our veins.
A coffee cup to your right and
A lighter to your left.

There is ice that clogs the gaps
Between my feet and my head.
At least it’s filled now,
And I know you’d agree.
Be it a smile under your skin
Or a smirk behind your eyes,
I feel you.
I know you. 

That musty smell of the cellar,
It’s always been a comfort.
And as I creep down those stairs
Creek ,creek, creek,
Crack, creek.
I hope to catch you as you wake
Newly pure and undone
Sometimes I swear, I observe a hue
Of the world wrapped around your iris
And smothered by the blue 

I’ve always hated the feel of holding in
As if I caught a breath too long.
Consuming every atom in reach
Hoping to quench the need.
Containing each movement
Maintaining every strength
The cold halts the air
Slows down the molecules
But no not for me
Oh no, not for me

I suppose you can always
Like my hair
And always admire my face
But you, dear one
Are the only one to actually take
A taste
You challenge my solid thoughts
Consumed my liquid breath
And as I see you in the basement
Pen and paper in hand
My stomach switches places with my heart
I know, I know this is hope.