A Valentine of Sorts

I'm feeling some creative energy begin to stir with two poems that came to me this week. The first is unchanged from how it arrived between two subway stops as I typed it into the notes on my phone. I've made a couple of tweaks to the second, written on my shopping list paper in my kitchen. It feels like a totally different poem when written by hand.

I Am Being Reborn

I am being reborn
Grief is my labour
Pain, my midwife

There is blood
There are tears
And the passing of time

Which seems to stand still
But my body is beginning to know there is
another side

With scars and reminders
And tears and a deepening love
That has no end

-written February 11, 2020

No Cupid

His voice
is an arrow
let loose under
perfect tension
through time

Its precision is
narrow
but the effect
shatters everything
---
The pain is
sweetness to me
I will not put
up my shield

-written February 14, 2020