cambridge

it was simple and all consuming
i timed my walk through the store to see her
to brush my hand against hers in the tight space of the office
beautiful fair skin glowing round face long fiery hair tucked behind her ears
and i held that picture that feeling
until the next call  the next round through the store

she is smoking
leather jacket over dyed levi's doc martin boots leaning against the brick wall
waiting for the delivery 
krishna tells stories about the show last night
i nod along with the conversation
waiting for those couple moments
to walk back upstairs feel her hand on the small of my back
our pause on the landing
another picture to carry me through the day

we sat at the kitchen table drinking beer laughing
she told me she loved him and that they were getting married
and I couldn't breathe and my mind raced
and i watched more and more and more words splatter onto the table
and the edges closed in

the betsy johnson dress was deliciously blood red
unexpected irreverent
and i watched her pull the white tissue out of the pink box
she smiled and kissed my face
i felt everything drain out of me
everything left in that box on the table

she watched nervously as i packed 
trying to get all my clothes into the last three boxes
she grabbed my hand and told me she loved me
numb   confused 
already committed to a new start
alone too long in that flush
too scared to trust her
to trust anything

slipping

i don't want to forget

that excruciatingly long morning waiting for the news
relieved  scared  excited when he finally called
crying and laughing and how hot my face felt
that first deep breath knowing     
hands on my belly
my whispered songs of encouragement
quieting my fear

and it started ending 
slowly
and then the afternoon in the office
the blur of the week that followed



i drew an arrow on my arm
black sharpie from the crook of my elbow to my wrist
dotted with the moon 
from new to full to a waning sliver 
like my eight weeks with that tiny almost my baby
something I can see and touch 

a record of that slow slip from soon
to some day towards maybe we were built for a different life
to heavy stillness towards today

new moon
new day
new start

possibility

I remember getting ready for school in the bathroom at home

using only the light in the shower to create a dimly lit dressing area

avoiding my reflection in the large mirror over the sink

seeing just enough to brush my hair button my shirt

one day in sixth grade I went to school with two different color knee socks

one blue and one black

I remember the painful clarity of the mismatch in the bright morning bus ride

too late to change it
walk slow look down be quiet
no one will see no one will notice

today i can see myself more clearly
i spend hours investigating every inch of me
and then i leave the bathroom and unfocus my eyes
become that invisible middle schooler again

dress in my dark closet

ignore the details of my self

no one will see me no one will notice

maybe it's not too late to change it

travelling

gray clouds blanket the sky
orange evening sun slips through the frayed edges at the horizon
my mind wanders from the road ahead of me
walks back to our conversation
her hesitation
maybe she can't find the words
maybe she can't remember the story
and forward to holding her arm as we walk to the house
concrete pavers carving a path through the gentle slope of grass
slow morning easy breakfast
sunny afternoon walk early movie
steady enough to smooth the edges of her memory of her day

bridging this road to the next
I cried as I asked her
and she cried as she answered

little toe

one movement and then one more
and the earth shifts around me
and the water starts to rise

it swallows my knees
then crests the wall between me and some day
everything overflows into new and next
filling me with hope
energy
calm

tiny toe in as I whispered maybe under my breath
and the universe rose to meet me
pull me through to this

fresh

new neighborhood fabric store and swatches of my gorgeous future
flowy sleeveless dress with platform heels for sierra's wedding
and the ideas are swirling again
and I feel juicy and energetic and open and ready
for something new

mandolins and pound cake
bursting wide open and hoping everyone will see

manifesting amazing courageous

cup of coffee a day maybe 10 a week
what could I build
what could we build together

quiet

she asked if I was ok
again and again
the tears fell onto my green dress
and dried leaving little flags of sadness on my chest
gaping open and exposed
i tried to skip past it calm down breathe
i didnt expect this and somehow also created it
i dont know where to go next how to move through this
slip anonymously through but am fighting to keep from screaming out in the middle of the meeting of the call to random people i hardly know
move forward move one step forward

in empty moments i rush to fill the space
do more read something watch something else
no stillness no more quiet air

i am tired of running and trying and smiling

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