212/365: Love, We Are Only Looking

It's hidden even inside
rage and shame,
this love,
inside sex and sadness,
grief and pain,
where it's hard to look
and easy to look away.
It's not only where it's obvious.
It's not a pretty thing
you can hold in a hand,
because love cannot be held in hands.
It pours through cracks
even when our eyes are closed.
Love can raise hackles.
Love can be a fearsome dog at night.
Love can divine territories beyond your willful ken.

We are not lost.
We are only looking.
We are not lost.
We are only looking.
We are not lost.
We are only looking.


I am writing one poem every day in 2016, and I am using the hashtag #365poems to document my progress.