warmer than I could have hoped
my chest tightens
breath labored with the effort
of life
the rush of air
squeezed
uncomfortably from old spaces
familiar
but new fangled in the buttons
I will learn to press
on my new camera
two of them
two separate mediums
digit-al/man-ual middle grounds
flesh recorded as history
as moment
I love taking the allure of faces
and all that represents of us
as human
petite part of a planet careening
into tomorrow
yesterday still marks us as vulnerable
ask the small
pieces still fragmenting
finding water
ice
blood is thicker than what we mean to each other
answer me that woman
what we intend is
absolute
what occurs is conditional
hello Dominique
Angela
Andrea
and how I love my Ashakins
Still
Hello Ashara
and Eric who slipped his shoulder out of place
white boy who was witness
to another time
another place
we might have lasted
just once
here we are again
children of caprice
and other people's
intent
vision me
as myself
choices
mine decision solely
attributed to my errors
I carve the line as my own
give me my breath
as my own
weekends reconsidered
lifetimes re-arranged
for honor
and what we hold sacred in our chests
tightening
wait for me
love
wait and I will come
in waves of certainty
wait I say
wait for the light
to say red
then we can
run wild into all the parts we have forsaken
night and Denver
and moonlight
and patience
shots taken of a bed
rumpled with my indecision
sleep eludes me
rest is impossible
I wish me insomniac
so you could worry about my body
not being still enough to go on
to new cities
we will always have Chicago
and New York has always made space
for a crazy wretch walking the plank
of insanity
it is good to see you again
Denver
I imagine you sipping wine
perhaps something less
sophisticate
smiling
into the flowers I knew you would not love
perhaps I should have been there
just left of his right ear
deep inside his head
I would have told him
orchids
are more gentle on lips like yours
soft sometimes
giving almost chaste when requested
a kiss if you may
costs more when asked for
you move me
more than these clumsy words can say
other women
need words
you
breath
and sorrow unspoken
feel the more human parts of me
failing
flailing
in the collage of you thinking-no
you said
dreaming
of the more transient parts of me,
till the next bloodletting,
Staceyann