If you love me baby, smile.
And the glow from the moon,
will reflect off your teeth,
and bounce down the highway,
brighter and cleaner than every headlight,
speeding, zooming faster with every mile,
arriving through my window,
through the slats in the shutters,
to add a sheen to my room.
(Moon beams don’t know how to use a door.)
I will bask in its warmth,
and know that it’s true:
That you love me baby,
and I make you smile.
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Absolute dating methods.
Offhand, I don’t know,
the nature of things,
our brains are so big,
leaking gravity,
instruments that pick up frequency.
Our purpose is to maximize the amount of discovery,
all the evidence,
preponderance of evidence,
intellectually consistent,
where magnetic north is today,
the world is older.
I don’t know what the question is but,
the answer is yes,
and it is spiritual,
in nature.
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Bow in
for a short kiss on the median.
Hold on, steady tremble,
in the space between,
stop and go,
yes and no,
where hearts quake
and bodies sway.
You put your shoe next to mine,
which are smaller but carry me just fine.
The green man signals go,
and compelled,
we follow.
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Holy moly, my big brother is engaged. To be married. My pizza face, snot nosed, pigtail pulling brother. The one who used to practice his karate moves on me. Ok, so we grew up a bit. But still. Its crazy and awesome. Not only did my brother find a super sweet, interesting, smart, cool girl but she even said yes! I am so happy to finally have a sister and so happy that my brother has found his other half.
There is one unfortunate side effect to this joyous event and it’s “soon by you.” About 70 percent of the time that people say, “congratulations” they follow it up with “soon by you.” STOP IT. Really, please, stop. I know. You mean well. It’s what people say, you weren’t even thinking.
I pray with this mouth, so I won’t ever respond how I want to when you say that but I wont say thank you either.
Why?
Firstly, you are making a big assumption that I want to get married. It happens to be that someday I might. Probably not soon. But most importantly, you are taking the focus off my brother’s joyous event, which gives me great happiness, and retraining it on to what you are assuming is greatly lacking in my life. I happen to love my life right now. I like to focus on the great things I have, like my job, my friends, my independence, my health and my kick ass collection of patterned tights. When you say, “soon by you,” you make me focus on what I don’t have. Which is really unhelpful. I took a poll of my single friends who have siblings getting married and we all hate it. So please, please, stop.
And stop saying it to the childless woman whose best friend had a baby, stop saying it to someone who is job hunting, stop saying it at all.
(There is one exception. I have a good friend who I have an, “if we are still single at blah blah age, let’s have a baby making partnership” and he wrote to me, “soon by us, either separately or together.” You, my darling, are brilliant.)
Posted in Prose | 2 Comments »
It only takes a few times burned,
to learn to be scared of the fire,
back away into cold darkness,
learn to live with the damp chill.
But the light calls out,
it beckons,
it dances,
it crackles,
it laughs,
pulls close,
only to illuminate scars.
Scars carved into tanned grape skin,
scars wished for,
so to never forget him,
him,
him,
hims.
A spark lights the scene around me,
only to strike me in the face,
a kiss,
pockmarked,
into my forehead.
The mark of Cain,
who is not able,
to love without fear.
Your smile is so warm dear,
but I am afraid of the burn,
terrified of the bite.
There will not be another scar,
I have no more room,
for lines and marks,
left by flames of the past.
So promise me you are safe dear,
promise me you’ll keep me warm dear,
promise me you won’t bite dear,
promise me you won’t burn dear.
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The end of a long day sounds like,
a clasp popping,
elastic retreating,
a sigh,
a heaving chest,
finally released from solitary confinement
where each half was separated from its partner.
All that support,
gets exhausting,
and there is relief to be had,
in letting it all hang out.
There goes the tight waist defining belt,
and the dangly heavy-on-the-ears jewelry.
Makeup rubbed and smudged but not yet washed.
There goes the patterned tights,
and the pencil skirt with the slit drops to the floor.
In the future it will have to be ironed.
Not sexy nude,
but banal naked.
Natural and tired,
finding comfort robed in fleece.
Sleep will come soon,
but first an hour or so,
of pre-bed time,
unclothed peace.
Artwork by: Yulia Frydin
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It’s very hard to ask for more,
when you aren’t entirely sure,
and you feel insecure.
Is he is satisfied with what you have given,
with what he has received,
in this transaction?
He still constantly,
checks up on me,
needs to evaluate and judge my every action.
I know there are 1000 others who could take my place,
but you have invested in me,
and I have given my all,
done my best,
I hope you are impressed.
This is my place,
it is where I belong,
I have fought to be here,
and I will fight to stay,
but I would rather not fight at all,
and you could easily keep my fears at bay.
I don’t want to beg,
but I have already borrowed,
and I will not steal,
at your mercy,
I expose my neck
and kneel.
This is a difficult tight space,
it’s very hard for me to say,
that I need more,
because I am struggling,
because I am poor.
You haven’t given me enough
though I have given you many nights and many days.
I know you are able,
and I hope you will
boss, I’d like a raise.
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