Passion

Passion is leaking out

slowly and

I work to stop it from

emptying itself out

completely

because I need to feel and

need to talk and

spin on my wings and

jump and joke and desire to

fill the entire space I am given and

love, love, love until

I'm all scrunched up or

all blown out from

smiling from ear to ear with

the big Yes.

The Sense of Yes,

pervading my emulsion–

the Sense of Yes,

evading all expulsion–

The Sense of Yes, with

its foot in the door and

its eye on the prize,

its pedal to the metal and

its hands on the wheel–

singing the Key,

singing the Key.