reminders

time is time, forgetting about it passing takes it.

say something:

a sorry

an okay

a question mark (exclamation point)

an empty bubble

send something: 

an envelope with worded paper inside 

an envelope with nothing inside-- just to see my name written on the front

a picture of the moon or dirt or a sidewalk crack

a page of a book torn out & folded

  that little Neruda book that went through the washing machine. 

this is years of pretending to like my coffee black

seeing that--I prefer to be (by myself) because I am impatient. I have formed the habit of impatience. 

BUT, I have taken time to know a person (people). And when I do take it, I prefer the company of another to that of my usual 3 favorite guests (me, myself, I). Coming to that place of preference requires time & tenacity, patience & persistence. That's to say it's the effort in that time that gives it girth & meaning. Maybe that's why it's easy to be alone, it's easy to be lost in my mind. Easy to forget that my mind would be a terrible place to dwell if it didn't have the portraits of those encountered lining her corridors &  the framed images of places seen filling her walls. Books brimming with stories of them/you set on her shelves. See this too-- the blank wall space is endless & the shelves infinite,  canvases stark- the palette beside ready with paint & blank books stacked-eager to be inked.
 

I like my coffee sweet but I don't take the time to add & stir the sugar--this is impatience, this is years of pretending to like my coffee black. 

maybe I'll build a dock

Missing home today. Loving this carrot juice, glad to be away & by myself this afternoon. It's easy to be alone. The ease of solitude. The needing of nobody, that awareness, the comfort of my own internal ticker-tape. I can ignore what's said-- too easily--my own thoughts louder. Saying too often, 'what did you say?' & 'I'm sorry, I wasn't listening.' The ranunculus are pretty, in the little terracotta pots on each table.

maybe I'm an island

maybe I'll build a dock

maybe your boat could drop anchor 

& stay for awhile

in a dream last night

I saw you walking by, through a gap in the window's curtain: black cap, white shirt, a twisted string tied around your neck. Between your right hand's pointer & middle fingers: a cigarette. 

of all things

you say, "I'm hungry."
I say, "let's eat."

cups & bowls

white plates
forks & knives.

of all the things
none are black & white
neither do we live in grey
we exist in colors

love is
a meal
together.

so, let's eat.

He's patient (thank God)

Greedy for love, attention, an arm around my waist, a hand tightly around mine. When a greater love is waiting for me, arms, so outstretched the joints are pulling from the bone, and despite the burning muscles He'll never lower them. And I roll my eyes and bite the inside of my cheek. Blush, shake my head no. When a nod yes is a simple move but in such an opposing direction. I can lift my head and squint, but bringing the chin down and back up is a sacrifice I stubbornly won't make. A beauty is waiting to embrace me and I turn away and move swiftly toward darkness, because seeing nothing is so easy. I like to say I don't see well... but I see it. for damn well sure I do.

send all the letters

send all the letters
everything written but unsent

letters written, pencil on yellow lined paper
enveloped & return addressed.
letters written, pen on torn out pages
folded once & named.
set on window ledges
waiting on dresser tops
stamped.
walked to mailboxes
walked away from mailboxes
still in hand.
send all the letters
everything written but unsent
 

forget fear.
send all the letters.