after too many movies
about honor
and faith
and the fury of time/the hours
unwrap moments for me to fill
the monotone hiss of the heater
has begun
new skin is shedding the nights I spent
aching for things not promised
wishes and horses and all that manure
the crisp edges of real time
injects itself drunken into me
vein and artery
arrow and artistry
my fingers click precise
not trained or systematic
they type inclined to carpal tunnel
syndromes
honing in on old age and raw certainty
and me only worried that my eggs
will never bring themselves to fruition
but life can mark itself on a body
many ways
sperm and life
and being a lesbian is more complicated
than I would ever have envisioned
inside my head
I was coming to America
to laugh
and live a little
leave some of me to giggle
small parts dissolving into cackles
I though I would last longer than this restless devil caressing
inch long bruises across my identity
what the fuck is identity
in the face of all we endure
existence is inane
necessary
and without reason
no logic sticks to the ribcage
of death
and my voice is finding itself
blue
and yellow light breaking new skin all over my solitary bed
my limbs
can rest naked
missing the familiar
but aching less with the hours
thank God/or fate/or luck foe these horrible movies
for this book I am tapping into shape
no matter what you say
assault
survival
almost/almost survival
almost rape
such windows were made to be seen through
tall glass structures
erected upright for efficiency
and me sleeping un the nude
so the cold autumn sun can lick my stomach
my face unfolding to find morning
blinking at me
nothing feels as good
as my own belly
uncontained, my hips, my ass curved and kissed gently by the blanket
we slept under
in Washington Heights
and here
I can smile now
thinking of you
inhale the memory of your beautiful hands
seeking a clarity
elsewhere
and me
searching the bed for the phone
or a pen
or the remote
for one more movie
and me smiling open at the possibilities
opened up again
not so long ago
my hands were happily tied to yours
perfect
your fingers knew me
languid
Sunday mornings
sex and sleeping and the simple rote
of kisses
awakening
smiles
hidden/self-conscious
you were always too conscious of how much this meant
in another life
we will look back
and weep at our innocence
our rash politics
our wild hope against hope
we could have lasted
and did
almost two years
and I can smile at us now
new rings
promised under skies
and rain jackets at 2 a.m.
my feminist self
has never felt so reflected
almost a foot above me
you towered
and I laughed at how small you seemed
wrapped-up in my arms
you made me into a giant
small hands
and feet
I was always amazed
at the height of me
lying next to you the world seemed smaller
than my fears
my hesitation
I wish I would have jumped for you
higher than I did
not out of regret
but because you would have known
that I wanted to
you were beautiful
are beautiful
without clothes
and I challenge the looking glass
here in my bedroom
noon has never been so far
away
rocks the rhythm of a night without tears
willow trees bend stunning
in my imagination
they weep and whisper sweet nothings
nothing can make me
take back how much we loved each other
love each other
even now
a crass warp in our time
synchronized
we could have tested the parameters
of forever
but the edges would not have been
visible
the skies would have been endless
such excess
may have compromised
the way I love you now
rejoice
not in what could have been
but what was
flesh
morning
cafes
love and hope blooming radical in out chests
we nested
each lifetime pocketed
finite
in our hands
forever
was a thing to be trusted
and I giggle now
pleased with the memories fluttering comfortable
against my ribs
Adam can go fuck himself
I wanted Eve- I always want Eve
the apple tempting rose-like against her cheek
the meek shall inherit the earth
but I wanted your flesh
revelled in it human
frail
I found you
against these odds
twice
and now the future
winds itself spring-like against the Fall
winter is almost here
the winds
the leaves breaking colorful piles and piles of potential
next year
is still a possibility
but today is beating urgent
and am committed to living in the now