A Suitcase

I had the words just a second ago - I'm always doing that, when a feeling storms itself in my insides, feeling so sweet and filling every vein like its whiskey and sweat and every warm memory that reminds you time is nothing….before it flees away finding me unfitting for the Truth just yet. 

But it was all ending and it just felt so strange - the great expansiveness about to hit. Sitting in the comfortable routine that no longer belonged to me. It'd be gone tomorrow but my mind was resting too much to remember. 

The worried, great rumbling El track- line the last two years had made kept stretching itself like a rubber-band waiting to snap back - waiting for that time when it all feels tangible one last time. When maybe - I've got just the right words to feel the finality. 

Feel the meaning of the boxes - holding every fragile possession, of every delicate hope from longs' ago's…
While I've got two strange burns on my neck. 

The frenzy already creeping back of my old lamentations - because the same old words now mean poetry again -- and the smoky evening under the stars talking with hands and souls and brokenness have become an urgent craving once again. 

The cobblestones, I'd like to trace them after the rain, with fingertips, as bended knees dirties the fabrics of my dress but that won't matter.

No matter any of it. Those old worries. It's beautiful the spontaneity - the full embrace of just one thought - that you hope treacherously people to feel like that. That creates the goings… of all the art I know is still waiting to purge itself and create a devastating smear of beauty. 

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Parting/Hello Words

That big window frame is speckled with thick raindrops - that instead of dripping, have just forced themselves to stay in one place. 

They've taken to the view maybe, and I'm taken with seeing the same view now all spotted and smeared, reflecting itself back to me countless times over in eccentric patterns.

And every time I forget it's raining - the lightening silently cracks - followed later by the sound. 

And I feel in that moment all the strength of missing every grand emotion there's been in my life. 

Just the emotion of it. 

The power of the lightening, --

I once kept it like a play pal, and danced with it in coquettish eloquence... 

Feeling every single cooling glob, as it dropped - as it hit my tingling and so-red cheeks - barefoot in the middle of a street that I once thought had every answer there was to find. 

Oh, all the thoughts we (my friends & I) once had. I feel them as one abstract shadow, one strange memory that may have never been -- an outline of something on the wall just so, as it slips back into….

As it all slips back into a later place. 

Fitting now into a closed drawer of softened heavy wood - that sound it makes as you push it closed - it makes more sense to hide it these days. 

Away, away…let's start anew this time.... (especially) now that the place - by the shelf, by the sink - where everyone fell in love for fleeting seconds, is a stranger's. 

Now that it's right before eveything's about to change.

And instead you're shaking your head smiling thinking of a new memory - when the heat rushed back so urgently - and the kiss was so surprising - that you laughed at the force reviving within. 

That force it takes to create for the ones who you love and know, the most illustrious circumstances that the real world can stand to allow. In due time, with the proper magic.

This life you know, is pretty great.



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