the snowfall came tumbling down
   resting sweetly on my eyelashes and toes
like the feathers of one million unfortunate doves
     that dad popped in the chest
     with his pellet gun

there, in those strawberry fields of dreaming-
those blooms of a season long since dead and torched-
     i swore i found you
and you were speaking sweetly in a smokey room
with a crescent smile
and a cheap long-neck bottle
and a blue ball-point pen
that you'd only pry from it's waltzing
     to chuckle with (and charm) the bartender

an older lady
with muddy-water curls
and poision ivy eyes
     and...there's something about her that reminds me of my mom...
then the moment's gone
and now, all i can wonder
is how it is that she's counting change when she hasn't got any fingers

the captain must be on the mic again
with bull-**** banter about the weather
     or our eventual destination
     or something about the turbulence to calm the unfortunate un-drugged
his monotone monotony
sneaking through my sleep to me
     and coming through like the voice of the radio host
     as my head's beneath tepid bathwater

your ellegance uneffected by his audible intrusion
into my sub-concious dellusion
     you pull at the tides of your brew
     and wink
then back to a busy pen

     i have to get to you
you've got to remember
  
come back

but dreams don't work like that

it's as if my feet don't match my body
or my legs are facing backward
or i'm in that godforsaken hallway scene of "The Shining"
     and i'm finding this to be far more frustrating
     than remaining concious through the flight could have ever been

and again
somewhere over nebraska
the ride gets increasingly shaky
     not obnoxious enough to wake me
     just enough to take me to the part of the nightmare
     where my teeth start falling out
          like precious little gems of vicodin and nicorrette
               t a p p i n g out my fragile skull
and now i'm wearing some ******-gummed grin
and that charming lounge is feeling like "From Dusk Till Dawn"
and all of the friendly faces are gone
     except for yours
          and you look horrified

how come now i've got your attention?

touchdown at o'hare
and i wake in the window seat next to a vacant chair
     alive and well
except that you're not there

and to think
     when i was a kid
          my nightmares all had fearsome beasts
then i grew up
          and found the monster to be me

"you really are beautiful,
in your own kind of way",
he says
     as he spits through his teeth

in what way is that,
i wonder?

in a way that can't be crammed into a size five dress?
in a way that isn't actually aesthetically appealing?
in a way that's too intelligent to find your misogynistic outburst colored flattery?

he pushes the wire-like hair away from my face
and wipes an angry tear from my freckled cheek
     "see, all you have to do is try."

oh, boy
try
yeah,
     that's what i'll do
so i can catch another in a long line of "men" who think i COULD be beautiful

as if beauty is only one color
     one size
     one shape
as if it can truly be measured with a bathroom scale and a hand-held mirror
and can be purchased at a costly brand-name outlet in a shopping mall near you

my mother's mother has an affinity for referring to my twenty-three extra pounds
in a way that one refers to the neighbor's busted-down ford that needs towed away
"oh, catrina, you really could be so gorgeous,
     if you'd just get rid of some of your fluff."

she pinches at my sides
     and the backs of my arms
     and the little curve at the tops of my thighs
          just below my ***
like i'm an over-stuffed pillow on her antique love-seat
that's about to burst at the seems
     should the seemstress not pull out the threads with her teeth
and remove the unsightly over-fill like black-heads from a slender nose

everything she buys me comes from a plus sized store
     and wears a fat filthy double XL on it's tag

considering that i factually only need a large
i fight back my plump tears and wear a cheap smile
as i give thanks i don't mean
and kiss her on her heavily perfumed cheek
     "oh, such lovely lips
     why not a splash of lipstick?"

as soon as i'm out of her home state
i take the clothes back to the "big-girl" store
and trade them in for pizza and beer money

the girl behind the counter ironically weighs ninety-two pounds soaking wet
and that's only if she's still got on her padded bra
     slender
     starved
     sickly
     and supposedly ****
since when were curves a curse?
and who the **** decided it was a good idea to pattent worth with a lipstick shade, anyway?

no
     no way

i am beautiful without having to paint myself that way
my existence is not defined by the shape i take
my flaws and imperfections can't be remidied with any myriad of poking and plucking
     nipping and tucking
and all of my greatness and wonder sure as **** outweigh a tiny bleach-blonde *****

oh
*******
     and that pretty little pony you rode in on

i refuse to be pressed against a rubric and graded like a show-dog whose owner will only settle for best-in-show
     and kicks his failure of a companion sharply in the ribs when he doesn't bring home another ribbon

this obsession of society's is making us sick
  
we don't teach our children compassion and empathy
     we instead instill their heads with talk of thread count
     and color schemes
     how to brush on blush
     and how to pick a suit
cute won't save the world

i beg you sisters
     please
let us not give this disease to our daughters
let us not allow our sons to carry the gene

together
     let's put to rest the ill-concieved notion of our beauty residing without us
          rather than within

let us never again bow down to the revlon gods of vanity

together
we are Woman
     and we deserve to finally soar

i curse my nightmares
for stealing away precious moments
that could better be spent
     dreaming of you

my DNA is a self-made daisy chain
strung together with the best of intentions
and a few yards of dental floss

it's always getting tangled up in moon beams
and boot strings
     tugging me in one thousand directions at once
like the sea pulling at the limitless shorelines hem

i am magic

my flesh reflects the hue of the desert dust the winds bathe me in
speckled with freckles that occasionally line up with the stars

what a fool i'd be to paint myself into obscurity
with make-up brushes and lipstick hues

          no

i choose me

excessively sensitive to the energy of all other living beings
always feeling everything
all the pain and happiness
love and fear and angst
     at once
          lumped in with the leaves of my tea
destined to forever reside within
     me

the high-priestess of the immeasurable things
the guardian of treasures unseen
     constantly filling my sundress with ***** pebbles
     broken feathers
          and all the stardust i can find

i've spent the last one thousand life times
being everywhere at the EXACT same time 

you should know
     you were there

     and oh
such love i've found
hiding in the shallows
in the mud
     and under the edges of your finger nails

even in the darkness of the vast
and ever-stretching sky
there is so much light
so very many precious gems
hoisted into timeless settings along the milkyway's head-dress

          i promise
where i am right now
is the best place to be

and if you don't believe me
     crane your neck towards the stars

i broke my teeth
on the secrets you keep
     and you swear that i'd died in the morning.

the train whistles lull me to a dusty sleep
     an ancient sleep
primitive and timeless as the sage
          it tastes like rain
          and reads like a folk song

and when the engine songs are gone
the interstate strikes up it's serenade
     flooding my heart valves with gasoline
     and valvoline
     and the smile of what i can only hope to imagine are young lovers
with a fiesty case of wanderlust
and a puppy in the back seat
with a wagging tail

"happy trails" i whisper
and the stars flicker
and i smile

the walls let their secrets slide while they sleep
     all those restless memories they keep for themselves
floating around
and settling in the parlor dust

they trust me just enough
to let me cradle them in my chest
woven between my rebar ribs
and my flat-tire heart
     thud thud thudding as it speeds off into the distance

the dogs rustle the sheets as they rise
     just long enough to sigh
          dance a sleepy circle and a half
and put themselves back to bed

i finally crawl out from inside my noisy head
as the boy nestles up to my neck
and traces my clavical with his humid breath
and ropes me in closer to his chest
     with his big bear arms

his heart sings like a fire alarm
stirring the brave to save me from the shadows
     and chase the ghosts from my gallows
          and he even lets out puppy snores in his sleep
the tune that finally pirouettes me towards my dreams

where the birds sing like drunken sailors in the mango groves
and the rows and rows of lime trees
     my heart and mind innertwined to paint me a scene i've never even seen
          not with my own eyes

it's so nice to think it's within me
and not without me

yes
     for every sound, a source