7.6.25 (10:42 am / 10:42)
ariane.
all those lunches throughout the school year,
do you remember?
not just the two of us,
but somehow that still.

like the day of the dance-
i let you borrow my floral vintage dress,
and we all tried it on at our lunch table.

when i think of you,
i think of the way you twirled
and how the skirts flew in the air
and oh
how you laughed

at the dance we all posed for photos
looking at the camera
our mouths lip-gossed and pouting.
but my eyes always strayed back to you
and in one polaroid,
i’m smiling.

this is what i’ve been trying to tell you.

** m

7.6.25 (7:05 pm / 19:05)
in the most honest of ways
you deserve so much ******* better
than me

icarus ii 7.1.25 (5:41 pm / 17:41)
i would like to burn
i would like the sun to strip me down to the bones
and find and newer better person underneath
i would like to scream and cry until my tears dry and i lose my voice
surely by then i’ll be stronger

i would, too,
like to mount my metal wings and fly
oh, fly
so close to our savior star
until i die
smiling

then maybe i’ll be resurrected
and everything will be fine then
because i will be someone new

and this me
weak fragile not enough me
will be gone
nothing but ashes

i’ll be happy

I did not leave the desert unchanged.
The heat shimmered as if reminding me that all I had beheld was a mirage, tempting as it was to grasp it tightly
in my palm.

The rumble of the charge still echoed
in my mind, my spirit fully awakened, body upright now. So many decades
of being bent and not realizing it.
My vision shifted

to the impossible becoming my reality.
The warrior women who spoke life over me, poised and unwavering
as those with wisdom often are.
Their eyes peered deeply into mine

and the dry bones were made flesh anew. Somewhere in the distance,
the little girl I once was (who had fought so fiercely to procure
my safety) waved at me

one final time. Thank you, dear
little one, for being there when I felt like I had nothing else left. You no longer have to spring to my rescue.
I can handle my battles now,

knowing that the ultimate victory
is mine through Him who strengthens me. As I left the desert, I didn't look back. I was free. And so was she. Somehow, it was enough.

I read of your passing and paused mid-bite.
The world seemed to grow colder, but you knew
it was time to begin your next adventure, one
far beyond this familiar world we had shared.

Scientist — no, pioneering champion —  
in the fight against cancer and diabetes,
you were humble even in your brilliance.
A giant among men, a heart greater still.

I can only think of each time you passed
me in the hallway, your shy smile luminous
even as you ducked past me as if afraid
I might start speaking about what we had both

lost so long ago. You had always been my late dad’s
favorite boss, and I remember the thoughtful albeit brief
email you sent me when the cancer took him, expressing
your sorrow that a great scientist and fellow man had left

this cruel world far too soon. Now you join him
and I picture the two of you, both clad in white lab coats
colliding in an awkward embrace, eager to update one another
on all that the other had missed from the other side.