i love the lines of you

i love the lines of you
the outlines & the inlines of you
the lines that show me
where you are in the world
          the lines of your smile your legs
          your back
the lines of your toes hands & nose
the lines of your eyes open
& closed
the lines of your hips the lines
of your lips
                     i love the lines that come out
          of your mind
& out of your pen

i love the lines you draw & withdraw
the lines you feed me
the lines of your laughter
          i love your telephone line
& the lines you walk
i love the lines
of your shine how they radiate
& connect
with all the other lines
          i love the lines in my mind
that crave the shape
& touch & sound & thought &
gift of you

i’ll never forget your performance

our only spring at the beach
overlooking the bay where one day
i hope you’ll scatter my ashes

we sat on sand among stray logs
reading obscure books & drinking coffee
from to-go cups
when you pulled a feather from your jacket
another & another & then a knife
so you ripped into the non-rip material
removing handfuls of down

releasing white fluff up watching it
fly again
returning it back to the wind
back to magical updrafts
into clouds of compassion
as each feather landed
on pages of words written for another
in coffee cups poured for another
on faces & hair & sweaters & sand
even some floating farther away
into the brine of the bay

until your jacket became a metaphor
of death & resurrection

now an empty shell without a soul
you said goodbye & buried it in green dumpster
behind the oceanside apartments
the first place in vancouver
i ever lived