Preface to the Rest
Brandon Tankersley

my stomach acts out those rare times
of heartbreak death or a sleepless thoughtful night
my soul—whatever the name—weeping metaphysical tears
with no outlet but a small seeping through
some deep muscle tissue, unfulfilling drops
onto a sheet of paper
always unable to declare how much I really love you
whoever you are
my poems will never shine upon you
hot and tangible in a gold field with moon-strung waves
pushing wheat gently at the head
you’ll hear the thread of a tear-
full of want- in all the rest
since I cannot give you the warm sun
or foreign city streets, or truths most real in suffering
I’ll weep for you, and laugh because you’re beautiful
I’ll kiss you, and always pull away a second too soon
I’ll mourn imperfect pages, sacrilege to a dreaming heart
I’ll give you a moment from my life, full of value
be careful not to dismiss it too soon
I’m very sensitive you know