I leaned my head all the way back and watched the snow fall to ground
magical
nothing less than magical

I love you, but you never came
I just sat here surrounded by buildings
and people in a neighborhood
within this big, big city
having left it all
and having bought my one way ticket here

I love you, but you have not come
and I have started to memorize the names of street and buildings
within the old neighborhood market:
I know what stand sells what
–having walked into all of them
and having peeked into the busy ones

I love you, but you still are not here

I am trying to listen to the poetry of my life stacking all the coincidences on top of one another
taking the most random of details and connecting them like dots over

I have come to accept crazy hair days
as my everyday hair-day condition
I awaken with some curls at the top and some wavy strands in between, and then some straight ones
All of these paired with a voluminous bounce magnify the chaos of it all
and make me look like a little lion emerging from her blue-green duvet cave
in need of stretching and in search of food

I do love you, and whenever that truth settles into me I ask myself
so what is the kindest thing I can do for him?
I ask myself over and over again and I wonder if am  I wise enough to know
attentive enough to listen to life’s whispers

The soil ends at my skin
How could any other human being not be found
amongst the traversed path of that tie
You tell me where they begin
and I end
and I will place the ground’s earth into your hands
and kindly smile at you
There we will become two kids
standing over the blacktop in our neighborhood playground
awing terra firma

It is your turn to be open of heart
to come and be vulnerable
to reimagine what else could be
it is your turn to be sincere
your turn to find me human, and still
love me and tell me this simply by sitting quietly next to me
by showing up all flawed and all