By Matthew DeLuca
Here I am,
coming and going,
going and coming,
picking and plundering oughts,
depositing and sundering shoulds.
Savoring the intimacy of names,
the fat full face of generosity—
there is no leaving, or arrival.
It is a good time to see,
and eat.
It is a good time to
greet the flush flowers,
to come down the mountainside
and linger summer-like
in the village.
Attracted by a smell,
a bite, a glance—
how pleasant to lounge about
in spices and silks and smoke,
as after an arduous day.
Talk is like love, it bubbles
into laughter and ease. I am
a glutton for this love.
We stop trying to exist
and be various
and free.
That a self like mine
has a friend like you
is reason enough
(if evidence is required)
for such a self.
___
Matthew DeLuca is a poet living in New York City. He is a graduate of Boston College and Fordham University School of Law. His poems have been published in Offcourse, The Amsterdam Review, Wild Court, Open Ceilings and elsewhere. He published his first chapbook, Flowers, Birds & Gods, with Everything Matters Press in 2025.