So This Is Love

When I thought of leaving,
I saw the neon gleam
of streetside shops, the glow
on the brown and gray
brick but I said,
“Impossible,”
and just as quickly,
the veil drew over
my eyes again.
But for a moment,
sea-salt air and that giddy
rise up of the sight
to the point where city light
obscures the recesses
of bottomless night,
that big hungry belly.
For a moment
a memory of grit of shoe
on sidewalk.
Going somewhere,
for sure.
Then back to my life,
a long long hallway
of closed doors,
boxes stacked and teetering
along the walls.
I’m hemmed in.
I’d go to ruin for you.
I’d go to ruin
for anyone.

_____________________

Mary Ann Honaker holds a B.A. in philosophy from West Virginia University and a Masters of Theological Studies from Harvard Divinity School.  She has previously published poetry in Harvard’s The Dudley Review, Crawlspace, Gold Dust, Dappled Things, Hoi Polloi, The Foliate Oak, The Gloom Cupboard and Euphony.  In her writings she primarily explores the transformative power of love and the intersection of the spiritual world with mundane reality.  She currently lives in Salem, Massachusetts with her husband, Matthew Bender.