Dear Tessa

dear Tessa
remember to take the camera
out to your car with you in the morning
so you can take a picture looking back at your
house in the snowy
silver morning light and don't worry about
anything other than that

Tell Me Everything

Is gonna be all right.

Sometimes I have to go out looking for the song that fits how I'm feeling to lift my spirits. I guess once I find it, there's comfort in knowing that someone else felt the same at some point and wrote those words.

Today it was Kenny Loggins' Danny's Song.

My heart feels cold and crippled, so a song about tears of joy really should have made me feel worse, but the right notes and the line "Tell me everything's gonna be all right," even taken out of context, hit the spot. I need someone to tell me everything will be all right occassionally.

Because really, eventually, everything will be.
All right.

I hope.

Going Places

Let's get on a plane to a place far away.
Lose the leashes.
Get going to Somewhere.

long way Home

Remember when we were waiting
in the london airport for 21 hours
sleeping across the seats with little
blankets and backpack pillows and
me reading the Brokeback Mountain
book out loud to you and waking up
to a little black boy with crumbs
around his mouth laughing in a foreign
language in my face the chocolate
banana Frappuccino was so good I
remember it and we were ready to
be home but our hearts were stuck
in the gum on the sidewalk in Volos.

the wonder

seventh grade spanish I liked sitting behind him
staring at the back of his shiny-haired head
sometimes he turned around to talk to ME and my mind wondered if
maybe but probably not and I should forget about it but I can't
and one day he had HER initials written on his hand
so probably not
but they were HIS initials too
so maybe

Spring 04

Boston is the hand inside the chest massaging the heart so it will beat. Seeds were planted there in the spring. Wishes while I dreamed in the hotel bed of my arms around this tall boy hard enough that it was bound to come true. And still I could close my eyes and blow out the candles in a breath that would extinguish every flame. And wake up to only a memory of a dream.

Now when the beating stops, a scalpal moves through my flesh quickly a gloved hand reaches in to find the lifeless organ you're tall with a brown soft sweater letting me dance with you and it's springtime in Boston.