[2011] space bar

Don’t ever let anyone use their dirty lies
to make a prison just this high and just this wide,
chafing and scraping the sides of your arms,
because all those bars they made
do absolutely nothing.

No one can trap the supernovas inside you,
expanding infinitely outwards at the speed of sight
you clutched tightly as a little girl of two
since a voice inside said “Just
wait a little more.”

So when you know the moment is now!
and your heart fights to shout, those stars will fall,
melting that iron into quicksilver pools
meant to splash under bare feet and
reflect your tilted grin.

[2011] Joyshower

My body shivered, starting with the edges of my ribs and slowly the cold worked its way in towards the sternum, where it shot up into my jaws and started my chattering.

“Cold?” He shot me a wry look, his head tilted to the side.

I stuck my tongue out. “No.”

“Do you want my jacket?”

“I have my own.”

“Really, it’s fine. I don’t mind.” One of his hands began to tug at the sleeve on the other arm, but his eyes remained set on me, as steady as his always patient hands when they reached out to correct one thing or another.

“No,” I insisted, this time taking out any pitiful whine it might have had earlier. “I like things this way.” The cold seemed to dissipate a little, as if my determination made some of it slip off in fear. I felt rather proud of myself. Huzzah, frigid rebels! I have defeated you through sheer willpower! I laughed at the thought and he, although a little surprised, soon started laughing with me.

Our voices rose into the air and spread out across the sky, as if the dark clumps of rainclouds soaked them all up like a sponge. If our laughs were taken up, where did they go afterward? Did they slip into raindrops that fell back down on the earth? Somewhere under this vast, vast sky, did someone dance in his laughter? Did someone cry in mine? If they shouted or whispered, did their sorrow lift into the air and disperse as well? I lifted my head so the little droplets that had previously only grazed my nose began to touch me, more wholly, more truly. My glasses were getting blurry, so I pulled them off and stuck them into my jacket pocket, and closed my eyes this time.

I felt his gaze on me as he noticed my silence. Something moved between us and it took me a moment to realize that his silence was pressing into mine and so I let it happen, until we shared a…something, an indistinct and hazy something, that filled the gap between us.

The park was empty, except for a few boys skateboarding in the rain and stragglers here and their moving their way through the plaza. Everyone else in the group had gone into the coffee shop, to order a mocha this or chai latte that. We had both promised to join everyone else soon and I knew that in a few moments he would stand up and corral us both in that direction, but for now he only sat next to me under this steady pattering.

When it came time to go in, he stood up and looked at me. I wiped my glasses quickly and put them back on, my eyes readjusting to this grey half-light. He still had that teasing look, but somehow it had softened.

“Did you hear anything?” I asked. “I think raindrops carry secret messages.”

His dark brown eyes never left mine, quickly shifting from steady to a little jumpy, the sort when he made fun of me or the when he was nervous because words slipped out his mouth before he could stop them. “Really?”

When I nodded, he only said with a half-smile, “I hope you heard something important then.” As I stood up, in the space of one blink to another, I felt his hand brush my arm. Before long, he was ahead of me, his broad back growing smaller and smaller. I realized our shared silence was growing thinner by the moment and that neither of us were to blame. With this, I ran towards him, calling out his name with a smile. “It’s laughing!” I said. “The sky’s laughing at how weird we are!”

[2011] Specifically

it was that October morning
when it first smelled like autumn
leaves that once gathered around my feet
like children ushering me to play
but I nudged them
aside gently–
I have somewhere to be,
someone to be with.

My cracked, dry lips still felt
those chocolate-chip cookie crumbs,
the first thing I managed to eat
with hands that did not shiver
after I heard that it was done,
after all that heart clenching, teeth-chattering
unneeded
mourning.

You called me beautiful then;
I reminded you that
you were drugged,
probably couldn’t see straight, since
no one looks good under
hospital fluorescents, but you laughed
and called me beautiful again,
the last time for a long time.

[2011] Ceramic

After setting her in the kiln,
they left her to burn
bald and bare and alone.
By herself she felt

searing dead-white flames
lick her slender fingertips,
so new at knowing touches;
By herself she heard

stifling crackles, only
to realize that it was her
skin hardening over
for the last time.

They won’t call her a girl,
not quite yet, not until
they dress her as they please,
do her hair as they like.

For now, she waits in this round
belly kiln, listens to the fire
tell her about things called
bloodshed, bread, and beauty.

Fire calls her a thing of beauty,
that a bigger girl will hold her
saying the same thing, and
mean it even more.

“Even when you break,
reduced to just pieces
of what you once were,
you brought happiness–

is there nothing
more beautiful than that?”
She had no eyes to cry with,
so she smiled, eternally.

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