shhh.*

I'm here.
I'm here.

cry or don't,
breathe and keep breathing.

that wasn't very fun, huh?
when I got so sad you nearly punched the bedpost
and cursed your mind
and clawed your smile.

and I sat there like a used towel
crumpled,
wrinkled,
damp

but it's okay, anyways.

even though we cry
and you hate your name
and I imagine worse quarrels while I'm still as a rock

--yet tender as an oyster

frail as a bubble

ready to pop.

but it's okay, anyways.

days like this
come and go

like winter to spring
like houses from stone

shhh.

I'm here.
I'm here.

cry or don't,
breathe and keep breathing.
for all we know, tomorrow is spring.

and I'm here.

*I'm here.

After we dined, showered, and made love,
You fell asleep, on the left side of the bed.
Though tired too, well, I like to watch
Your face as it moves
When you breathe
(your chest rises too,
And sometimes you twitch,
And honestly, I find it cute).

And as I watch you here,
My one and only
Who lights up at the sight of me
And has already decided the names of our children,
And already loves them
Just as much as he loves me,

I wonder, my darling,

When the love will run

Out

I'm trying to remember
The words my father wrote.

He was a poet, in earlier days.
When he lived my lifetime once,
(Now he's lived it three-or-so times over.)

And I remember one day finding the words he wrote,
Photocopied onto bright white paper.

And it was then that I first realized how much I am like my father.

His words then held just as much as my words do now--

As much love,
As much anger,
As much confusion,
And, at times, as much hate.

And now that I feel lost and alone, I try to dig up the pages
That were haphazardly tucked in-between the leafs of a novel, I think

Or maybe an atlas,
Or maybe in a drawer,
Or maybe under the bed...

Behind the bookshelf?
In a photo album?
In a book
Any book
In the kitchen
Above the fridge
In a box
This box
Not this box
That box
Not that box
Any box,
Try any box,
Every box --


Which brings me to now.

Now I sit here, on the kitchen floor
Stirring my lukewarm chamomile,
Watching the air,
And the clock,
Breathing deeply through my mouth,
Holding back any sound

Searching through my head
To remember the words he wrote
Long ago
That somehow might make me feel my father's comforting smile
Now.

Once you gave me roses,
Yellow pink and red.
You cooked me up a dinner,
You talked me into bed.

But now it's only poppies
I'm given, if at all.
If you noticed I was slipping,
Would you let me fall?

Let me bring you coffee.
Let me cuff your sleeves.
Say you'll always love me.
Say you'll never leave.

Say you'll always need me.
Promise that you'll try.
Revive me if I'm silent,
Don't just let me die.

Remember when we twisted?
Remember when we sighed?
We slept, and then we didn't.
We laughed, and then we cried.

Or maybe I was crying.
It really got me down
That, when you saw me treading,
You left me there to drown.

You tell me that I'm pretty,
You tell me that I'm kind,
You say it's never-ending,
I'm always on your mind.

But no matter all the poppies
You give me by and by,
If my wrists were bleeding,
You would let me die.

We remember your old habits
And we will practice some of them.
We will leave out ******* crumbs
And we will salt the velvet chair.
They will see you in in our faces.
They will hear you in our singing
In the rhythm of our dancing.
We will tell stories about you.
We will tell them all the jokes.
We will fill your house with children.
We will fill your house with food.
We will scramble duck eggs for us
Or we’ll poach them if we want.
We will work out in the garden
We will sit up by the pool
And we’ll speak Spanish to the dogs.
We know that a space is empty
We can’t fill by being you...