paper towels

in my days i have sought names, categories, personages,
habits, hobbies ...at the very least tendencies to call
upon when defining myself to myself,
or explaining myself to others.

i believe in _____. i'm an ____ -ist.
i'm an early riser.
a vegetarian.
i only drink red wine, for the antioxidants.
i'm really a very independent person.
i like to take photographs.
i woke up at 2 today. pm.
a city girl, at heart.
god is questionable.
i'm quite eco-conscious.
i will cross town for a good chicken empanada with olives.
i don't do that.
i spoke with my mother 7 times this week.
those are paint brushes in my closet.
i have a penchant for paper towels and fast cars.
a chardonnay with lunch sounds lovely, thank you.
fresh air does my body good.
everything is questionable but god.
i do this.
i meditate.
i can't sit still.
i love to cook from scratch, you should see me in the kitchen, and yes
i'll take that pad thai to go.

turns out i love experience, turns out my vocation of choice is Professional
Dabbler

the only consistent labels, trends, statistics i can muster
have to do with change and a love of burnt toast

i love the many stretches that go into a lazy morning

or so i was told

to the one i find when i rip all the layers, to the one who gave breathing a new purpose and taste, to the one who modified my perspective i say..... .... .... .... ..... .... Hi

when god takes a nap, i steal a kiss. your salty tear. seals our lips, seals our bliss, god wakes up, smiles and says "i'm not surprised" turns his cheek and goes back to sleep

bed body

i can stand
on my own two feet
but sleeping is
a different story

took me years to find the peace
of mind and ease
of self to rest on my back,
nap with my arms above my head,

but to deep sleep i must
return to my stomach, limbs coiled
beneath my body, torso a bit
contorted, neck arched to pillow,
blood clotted in my joints,
safely, peacefully distorted.

cotton candy soup

i talked to god
she said she would do her best to find our family
between This World and the Not Yet
no promises, though, these things are tricky
i said i appreciated her effort and honesty

anticip-

the clouds say you're coming

but the wind changed direction and that indicates an unknown variable

four out of nine leaves on my tree are leaning towards the door - perhaps they know something i don't

three boxes of animal crackers say i was expecting you
the wrinkles in my sheets feign indifference - "we don't care, either way"

the forty-five thousand thoughts that crossed my mind on the elevator
between the second and third floors suggest
that i care about you, and whether or not you
show up

the nonchalant fork left dirty in the sink is my method of
convincing myself that it doesn't matter, and
the breeze through the window reminds me that i have
no say, no right, no part,

and yet
and yet
and yet the pace of my breath, the flush in my face, the jam in my throat, the thrill in my hands betray my logic

and i am overjoyed at the prospect of you
for a few minutes, just you --
overjoyed at the prospect alone

salted kisses

but this, this is a new animal.
this is a different kind of
bittersweet. this is
new.

before, my yearnings had been
obscured, vague,
yearnings to get away
instead of yearnings toward,
to name that which ill-suited me,
and to grasp, indelicately, at
what I imagined my desires to be.

now, as the tide turns, comes in,
I throw myself towards the things
I want, knowing now what they are,
because they've taken reality's form.
And they haunt me, those things I want,
because though I see them, though I lap
at them, drink them in through
words and voice and starbursts of the heart,
I know I cannot have, I cannot truly
know.

I will be beckoned, once again,
towards the weary, worldly sea, I'll ebb out
and away, pulled by the moon, dragging
myself slowly, gently releasing my
grasp of each grain of sand, leaving salted
kisses where they lay.

At least, at very least, I'll have tasted.