Tagged: family
the first day of the
the first day of the
rest of our lives starts like a
simple bouquet – matched
and mismatched, friends and family,
until death do us part
.
20170531:2357
y
because there is no
because there is no
end to a mother’s wisdom, we
can’t help but lean in
.
20170514:2218
y
every time we come
every time we come
back together, after spending
many moons apart,
there is a collective sigh,
a letting go of defenses
.
20170420:2301
y
on the seventh
on the seventh
anniversary of your
death, i announce
it the way one
notes it’s saturday,
close my heart
off for the rest
of the day, tune
in to everything
so there is no room
for the hunter
.
20170218:2359
y
there is a sense of
there is a sense of
disconnection here,
on the four-thousand-
seven-hundred-fourteenth
year, raising red lanterns
because everyone
else is doing it
.
20170128:1646
y
christmas morning, you
christmas morning, you
are reading to me a new
old book, 1963,
james baldwin.
wait, go back, i say,
and we read again,
out loud, and i reread
the passage to
myself, stuck
in strands of time and
the historical now, and
i have no right to the
sudden lump in my
throat, so i don’t
ask if you too are
struggling, not
together, but
separately, to
make sense of it,
the meaning behind the
words behind
the words.
we pause
here until some
unforeseeable spring,
promise to pick it up
right where we left off,
while secretly
stealing the solitude,
the hours and
years of nakedness,
required to face
the fire next time
.
20170126:0000
y
somewhere where my heart
somewhere where my heart
has gone into hiding, curtains
sway ever so slightly
with the repeated
melody of you escaping
through the cracks,
like light, air, a double-
trill, fingers still
reaching for that
practiced evenness
.
20161218:0236
y
