oh god, how he was beautiful,
the way she looked at him with
life pulsing at her temples,
waiting expectantly like
she’d been here before,
hands held out – falling to be caught,
saved by him, with those strong arms.
oh god, how he was beautiful,
the way he looked at
her, looking at him.
Remember when I held the nori up to the sun, and our eyes were graced by that moss-green? The color stained our eyes for minutes as the seaweed crumbled from our lips. Salt made me crave water, but I didn’t reach for my drink. Instead, I asked you, “Isn’t this beautiful?” And you said, “Yes, it is.” I wanted to stare at it for hours, but you were “done” after one square of nori. You then said, “When I get older, I want to marry a Spanish Girl.” Before logic took over, I indulged in the fancy that one day you would marry. I didn’t mention the harsh realities or misconstrued negativities. I just laughed affectionately and said, “As long as she’s nice and loves you.”
I imagined her hair dark like mine. She’d love red lipstick but never wear it. And she’d wear ankle-grazing floral skirts made of long, gauzy fabric with puffy blue, pink, and yellow flowers. Blooms you could run your fingers against; roses you could get lost in. Perhaps her name would be Maria, and her tan hand would always reach for yours as you crossed the street. She would take care of you and love you, even after I left this Earth.
You grew impatient with my lingering and went inside to play with your dry erase markers or something. I let go of the fancy and watched you walk away. Maria went back to that vague place where particular thoughts crush my heart to a million pieces, and I lose a little each time it happens. She joined the thoughts of your future everything, your future anything.
Remember when I held the nori up to the sun, and our eyes were graced by the moss-green? That moment, those seconds? Life was certain, life was divine.
I wore a flash ring on every finger.
seven bracelets on my once small wrist.
grew envious of how well that boy looked
wearing the black floral dress standing there
by the pink roses with an expression
I couldn’t name. how it oddly made me
miss your shadow in the night. how it made
me mutter under my breath like a spell.
stirred the craving to be young again. but
sometimes the memories can be cruel and
deceiving and I harshly remember
the beauty never lasts and never will.
all this strawberry dust is making me more attractive to the bees
as they whisper their youth in my ears
let their wings do as they please
wake up and feel the rush of fire rise up on my arms
it tap dances on my shoulders
his breath not far behind
his sadness broke my finger, felt the odd twinge of pain
as the nausea swept over me causing me to sit down
cause I’m so weak
but it paused his trance of rage for a minute
long enough for me to catch my breath
please Lord, let me catch my breath
let it be time to rest
give him rest so I can rest
let it be time to dream
dream of those enchanting bees
so polite they quiet their buzzing
for my worn out ears
as they lure me with their nectar
tempt me to their land of flowers and honey
making me hunger for the cold. want to
feel the icicles jump down my throat when
I inhale to steady my breath; causing
my eyes to fail me and freeze. blurred vision
has me fumbling; hard ice has me stumbling.
sliding down to my death cause my legs are
too weak. causing flashbacks to all those times
I went sledding as a kid. skin numb and
laughter frozen, not a care in the air.
Set the cotton candy mounds ablaze;
transformed their blue haze
Tried not to look back at the bridge that
called so boldly out
Imagined me atop its railing;
set to spring forth up
Mind wandered to that dying bunny
in the yard we found
Heart sunk and wished I’d held it so it
wouldn’t be afraid
Today you checked on it. Still breathing;
its glassed eyes on the
Put it in a bag; tied it tight. To
end its misery;
Peeked on it later; its shut eyes now
at peace. Walked away
Have you grown weary of our clandestine
meetings? You seem impatient with all my
weeping. My tears getting mingled with my
drinking. Drops of salt make it taste better
anyway. The grief tastes sweet, begging to stay.
How long will it be? How long will this grief
remain? Tired of waking up sad mourning
in the morning. Would rather smile back at
you, something I’ve forgotten how to do.
Could we forgive us? Could we even try?
With hushed words in secret places in the
dark holes of our home; he waits and spies on
us. We stop our chatter and vow to try
tomorrow. Let our clandestine meetings
last. Let’s be strong. Let’s ruin this sorrow.
I want to build a house by the coal sea.
You say Mr. Take Awayer won’t find us
there by the dark sea that rocks us to sleep.
Mr. Take Awayer will wear a shabby
garb of white. You tell me he floats sideways
in the contrast of night. Always at night.
By the vast sea I pray his calls are drowned
out by the violent waves and rocky shore.
He beckons to deceive you far from me.
But you won’t hear him I promise. I swear.
I hope you’ll be happy, hope we are too.
When I build a house by the jet black sea
and every night have its torment sway us
to dreamland. Find comfort knowing it could
swallow us, forgetting this pain on earth.
Hidden afar from Mr. Take Awayer.