#30

That day at the
end of September

I look at you and
understand why the
waves do what they do

I then also understand the
silence among the mountains
the leaves
on the brink of decay

it was years ago now
but I still compare
the two color schemes

the oranges and pinks
at eye level

and the dark blues
behind us

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yellowbirds/blue sky

the sky here is
more like a screen
draping against the edge
of the world
while riding my
bike I like
to stand on the pedals
and stretch my neck towards it
open my mouth as wide
as I can and try to
consume the blue
whole
I pass a mailbox with
two taxidermied
yellow birds sitting on
top , frozen in verb
stance
I pass the mango tree
that was once so ripe
a few weeks ago
the fruit hung heavy
abundant and tumbling
towards the canal
rainbow reflecting
in the water

linear

I am two feet
in front of myself
in sync with the
movements
my skin is a dark purple
and there is a hole
perfect and
circular
in my chest

I look outside and
see the sun shine
in two places

illuminating
the sparkle
and dust
a dark blue

remember what it
felt like to feel it
all at once

heart pulsing
through thick
warm honey

don’t lose the
feeling

walking in ny

A creaky heart
with each inhale and exhale
is a twig holding the
full
red belly of a
little bird that travels nocturnally

Walking past the bar that looks
like a 1920’s gathering
with its yellow round bulbs
decorative and dark borders

The trash on the sidewalk
seems to have come together
through serendipity
for the pleasure of
the moonlight, the streetlight
and the rain from earlier

Treasure from this angle

and then it started raining

Before boarding the plane
my step-dad gave me some sudden advice
“Don’t accept free food samples”
I suppose being poisoned
is a fear that I had yet to acquire

but at last here it is

I sipped from a glass of wine
elegantly placed
between a marble statue and concrete

on the third sip, I found myself upstate
in the closing part of winter

there I was, staring at the ceiling fan
trying to convince the man in the red wool sweater
to paint over
all of the thin black lines
I had painted on their door

gratefully sad

The more shit that happens,
the stronger (softer) I become.

I have to go take this face mask off
and brush my teeth

remember that it is all
temporary

every interaction
I had with that person
felt like I was cycling
through all of the emotions

every single one
in the speed of light

thrown into black hole,
and shot out of a cannon,

Lines that are reoccuring
written down

Having fun

Bought
2 mugs at the thrift store,
Teal,
setting a table of hope
in the
most
cliche way possible,

Ohhh,
I’ll buy two
just in case
there is a happy ending
for this strange girl that I know

The handle broke on one them
the most
predictable thing that could happen

what’s cooking?