In thicker times I’d throw my net wide

Brush hands against all types

Feel the abundance bubbling over

A real surplus that needed dispensing 

It was sad that the recipients didn’t quite know it wasn’t personal -

Feeling somewhat deluged and 

I think 

Maybe misreading the power dynamics

 Or it was sadder still that I forgot that too 

Too often 

Eros was raging

Chi was very yang 

It felt broken

But it felt right too

To throw it out in all directions 

Irregardless of what may come 

Knowing another worthy person 

Would mosey up on the horizon 

Worthy meaning alive

in that all life is worthy of love

Yes, the duds, the withdrawn, 

the sanctimonious, the loners, 

Were all rough rocks 

I hoped would yield to my touch.

I stared up at the sky in 6th grade

Thinking if I could think of something serious

Instead of targets of my love

And hope for reciprocity

Then I could have some real impact on the world

I guess I could have imagined 

The well would someday run to a trickle

That part of the never-ending-ness

Was in the shifting subject

Back in our thicker times

 I’d wrap my arms around his neck at every crosswalk

Despite his embarrassment 

And when he rebuffed my request for a kiss as we climbed the stairs

I said

There will come a day you won’t believe you refused my affection.

(Maybe it was that day it started a slow descent?)

And so, it’s hard to stay tender

And zero sum games have a way of sneaking in

And in the daily life, does someone need to supervise? 

And scarcity is myth - but feels so real 

But comfort and deep knowing is medicine too.