Hand spun moments
Where I, we
Rise into a cloud
Crystal clear
Doors opening up
I've jumped through hoops aflame
Judging myself all along the way
And I had a thought just not too long ago
I dislike myself the least I have
In quite some time.

A round of free drinks
I hold the cameras up
I fear what I still don't know
And attempt to arm myself with what I lack
No bra, flip flops
I come in like some kind of cute elfin boy
And I think back on all those who have come before me
It makes me feel a little less
Scrutinized.

I'm far far away from home
Three years time in the Chicago skyline
It feels like it has been eons
My best friend says I look completely different
I expel energy in moments
Wondering what that means.

My cat sleeps
I wonder if he will continue to
We curate and plan
We curate and plan.

I've watched so many men
Friends
Jobs
Lovers
Come and go
I've moved five times in three years
I've changed my hair more than I can count
And I stopped tallying up my list of lovers
Because it would take too long
To think it all through.

It is the weekend
The weekends in Chicago slightly slow down
Everyone takes a breather from their email
Except for the constant hustlers.

Do you remember
I often wonder if you do these days
How I stood in front of the mural
The first photo you ever took of me
And the last I would remind you of
To remember me by.

In yoga my mind retraces all of this
Through the sweating and the poses
The instructions
The carving of limbs
I cycle through what it's all been.

Time for rest
Time for rest.
Kisses and busy talk
Subside for now
Time for rest.