Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Noah Untitled

I didn't notice I was staring until I noticed you were staring too.

I told you about the secret places in my heart with traces of your palm, you told me about summers in Georgia by pulling me in.

Your hands and arms pulling me close, ligaments holding bones and joints in place, something so close moving together. Our bones will never move so smoothly.

There was something desperate, that clutch will not leave my mind. Like a child holding tightly to a favorite toy, a hold that was unrelenting through hours, through sleeping, through snoring. In your dense embrace I felt I could keep away the bad dreams, the troubles that may have crossed your face. If it went on our permeable surfaces would have dissolved into each other absorbed into the couch through to the floor and the dark basement into the rock and earth.

You whispered plans for when you returned home with kisses, my sigh told you where I wanted to be a year from now.

In a cool morning light I watched your jaw and played with your hair, and smiled when you twitched and pulled me even nearer.

The two syllables I know to call you fill my mouth like a gulp of water. Summer must be coming.

Thursday, March 15, 2012


I am not a superstitious person. I love to open umbrellas in stores and walk around for awhile. Ladders always made the best forts to hide beneath. I roll my eyes at 11:11 because I know someone out there is saying "It's 11:11! Make a wish!"

Can we just stop and look at that? It's 11:11 twice a day, EVERY day. So... it's lucky. Seriously, this bothers me.

However, I do love Chinese food, and I hoard slips of paper that come in cookies like they are tokens. They can see so easily through me, and they can whisper things that no one else could possibly know. The other day I found a handful that has been floating around in a box for the last few months.

"What you see in the mirror, and what you are can be two different images."

"An admirer finds you charming"

"Your character can be described as natural and unrestrained."

"You will continue to take chances and be glad you did"

"This is a prosperous time of life for you"

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

You were on my mind
Your skin and my skin were the same
You filled my heart until it was easier to feel yours beat than it was to hear my own
I thought you had opened the door to my soul and taken a sledge hammer to morality, safety, sanity and bravery.

But that door does not exist.

You can not penetrate something that does not belong in this world.

And here I sit, like I always have, in a room with no door
Becoming acquainted with the treasures laid up

It's coming out hard, and it's coming out slow, but it's coming out nonetheles

If I could write you a letter today...

Dear -----,

If I would write this letter to you today, I would tell you how I made myself sick thinking about you this week. That every couple I saw was you with her. That every familiar tree, building, person, sight, sound, smell, asked about you.

I would write to tell you that everyday I remember your flecked eyes, each and every laugh that you brought out of me and each one that you gave back to me. I would tell you that I remember your touch, and the way you stood in front of me in my eyes. And the way you could be impatient.

I would write that I am strong. I have accomplished more than I thought I could. I wouldn't tell you this to prove anything. It just is. I would write that I am so much better and stronger in myself than I had been. I would tell you about the trains, the graveyards, the music, the people I have encountered.

If I would write a letter to you today, I would say that I hope you are happy. I would say that I am not over you. That I am over you. That you are not now what I was in love with then -- and that is okay. That I found that I deserve more, that I have more to offer now.

One day my insides won't be tied up. Maybe that'll be after you marry your girl. After I have my first child. Maybe I will send you a picture of my family dressed up for Abraham Lincoln's birthday in a few years, and you'll send one of your own back.

Maybe one day I won't hope that you'll read this, that you won't be with your girl anymore. That you'll have regret, and feel an eighth of what I have felt over you. I would leave a few things out. Like perhaps I should have done all along.

If I would write this letter today, I would sign,

with regards,