I see time and space
as a black lake and us
as islands floating in the deep.
I see that things happen to us
and those events cause ripples
in the water surrounding us.
I see that humanity and nature
together create ripples that are ever
colliding, joining, and cancelling.
I see that the shores of our lake
reflect large ripples back at us
and so past events remain present.
I see events so large they cause
ripples that become waves.
The more those things happen
the stormier our waters become
and the longer it takes to be still again.
I look at my People and see
the storms we've had to endure
and that the ripples from those storms
are still strong enough to flood
and wash away our tiny islands.
I see myself in that water
and recognize the past is still
trying to wash away my shores
as I try to build them up.
I see then that my failure to do so
is not always for my lack of trying.
I see also that the consequences
of my actions are very real and
that they affect those around me
and even those to come.
So I choose to still the storm around me and
to build the resiliency of my small island.
I hope my People can do this as the ripples
from the storms we endured and endure
become smaller, and our islands larger.
I hope we can bridge the waters and
individual islands become continents.
I pray for those whose islands
were washed away in past storms
and for those who are drowning today.
I carry on, for their sacrifice demands it.
if you wanted something special
I could pull a few strings
give you the gold dust from the stars
I have losses I could make into magic for you
if you like these colors I can spin them into tapestries
we will always have
things to remember
I will name you things there aren’t names for
I hang on
moments that almost were moments
love that is love plus something
and yes there are worlds in our eyes
but we will find them
what if we never find them
I think I found the perfect words
and then I lose them again
like I am hoping not to lose you
my peace is drawn from something
deeper than you
it happened
you pulled me with your fingertips
we take each other back to
moments and basements
shatters and forgiving
you are pieces of my past sewn together
my future melted into a yesterday
it hopes I can make it to white dresses without
looking at the wrong horizon
I am following the fire with a little bit of smoke,
a little bit of chaos
Remember when
Every heartbeat was
More, more than you
Ever asked for? I always
Mean to tell you stories
But every time I
End up at
Remember when.
My brain whirs when the sun goes off
and isn’t it funny
that I have always been nocturnal even when I am asleep
the loner the
lover the
one to grow at night alone
the one to build arches that stretch
toward the hibernating sun
and build nests scattered with moonlight
you will never fit into
Isn’t it funny
the only time I think of you is in bed
when that’s the last place you wanted to be
The stars think I am attuned to you
and the way time is shoved down my throat here
When I think about it I can swallow it,
a spoonful of earthquake shivering down my spine
until it becomes a part of me
I walk through the almost-fire,
the heat that chases me until I look right at it
and under these swollen memories I step
and I forget you.
somehow
I forget.
Georgia stole the drugs in the glovebox
and traded them for passage. I don't
remember Texas. I barely remember
you.
There was a café at the end of the road
where the patio trickled onto the sidewalk
and umbrellas opened like snowdrop petals
allowing only splatters of sunlight to decorate the plates
placed in front of posied forks and clinking glasses.
At noon we sat with people sipping rosé
and nibbling the edges of pastries:
you with your cupcake, I with my
tart. Your mouth full of mischief, you spoke
with your hands to clear my head and
there was something like sweetness
on your fingers. Words sifted between your eyes and
a token of my innocence saw the sun
when icing stuck to your bottom lip.
I barely noticed the tremor in your fingers
when you raised your glass to toast the afternoon or
the acidic taste of the powder I wiped off your nose with my thumb.
Tell them we died
in late evening while the band still lingered
over their cocktails
and rhythms slid like molasses
over moon-tanned shoulders and under stilettos.
Lilacs wafted from her hair as she tapped a heel.
I imagined what my mother would say
and I suppose we gathered glances
like some do sea shells
and held them just as tightly.
Un aplauso a
Todo eso que vive
Entre, tu mente y tu boca, y
Que nunca llega a salir
Esos momentos tuyos
Que tuyos se han de quedar
Hasta dejar de existir
Eso que habita la mente en forma de recuerdo,
De furtivos momentos escondidos en la normalidad
Detrás de un "nada" hay toda una vida en un instante
Un instante de vida oculta y presa
Entre tu memoria y tu boca
Sometimes I go back to that place.
The one I
love
love
hate.
Where I stood
in the sand
in the moss
in the grass
scattered with candy wrappers.
Where she left me
in the dark
and left herself again.
Where I was made
and everything broke.
Sometimes I go back to when
they would splash so I could hear them,
barely above water,
from where I stood in that lake
my feet on the ground.
I don’t want to leave the ground.
I should have left the ground that night.
The night I could not
love her and
keep her safe.
But in my head I’m still under four feet tall
and the water closes over my head
the diving board is
miles away.
I can’t tell how much I’m willing to give.
Drowning doesn’t seem real
until you want me to make it out there
and I am gasping as my mouth fills with
possible endings instead of air.
I run too fast when things get real,
treading water in time.
I swam out to the dock
for you.