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Gaby Comprés Apr 2018
my hands are like my heart:
they know how to hold heaviness.
they know how to hold hope.
they make words come alive.
my hands, like my heart,
have learned to let go.
to hold on.
they have learned not to be so soft
but not too rough.
both of them, my heart and my hands,
they are like hummingbird wings.
they flutter,
they dive into love as if it were an ocean.
they do not know how to stop.
Gaby Comprés Apr 2018
the other day,
when you asked if you could take the coffee maker with you to Boston,
i told you
that i never make coffee
when we are not together.
you laughed.
you jokingly said,
“is it because you miss me when i’m not here?”
we both laughed.
but honestly,
yes.

about a year ago,
you told me,
“you are starting to sound like me!”
i have yet to receive a better compliment.

the day before i left to new york
you gave me a hat you knitted yourself.
i wore it every day.
(until i lost it on the subway.
i may or may not have cried. i will never say.)

we both know you are not the best speller.
but i love the way you spell love:
s-h-a-r-e,
g-i-v-e,
c-a-r-e.
Gaby Comprés Apr 2018
i give you myself
every time i write a poem
every word is a thread from my soul
every letter stands for a heartbeat
i will always have words for you.
i do not know how else to love.
Gaby Comprés Apr 2018
i have never written you a poem.
this is a song long overdue.
i love you
i love you
i love you.
i love you because you love
because without you
i could not love.
you are my needle and thread
the milk and honey
that feeds these bones
the bread and wine of this soul.
you are the home of my words
you are the teacher of my hands
you tell them to hold other hearts gently
you tell them to hold on
you tell them to let go.
you sing to me every morning
you sing me alive
you sing to me
i love you
i love you
i love you.
Gaby Comprés Mar 2018
all of this.
this breathing.
this walking.
this speaking.
this writing.
all of this is here
all of this is to say
that i was here.
that i am here,
and when i am no longer here,
i still will be.
all of this
is an attempt
to not forget myself
to not let you forget me.
all of this.
this body.
this hair.
this skin.
this voice.
all of this is here.
all of this, it matters.
today
i mattered
tomorrow
i will.
Gaby Comprés Mar 2018
i hope
that every evening
after coming home
when i look at myself in the mirror
to find a poem.
to find my curls alive,
to look at them and see the story that today told:
the times the wind kissed the strands
and the hands i love touched my head.
the times i laughed and tossed my head back,
unraveling the waves, welcoming the mess, welcoming the joy.
to find my eyes alive,
tired, maybe, but alive,
that they, too, share the story today told:
the times i closed my eyes in gratitude,
the smiles i smiled with them,
the stars and fire i keep in them,
the shine i cannot erase.
i hope
to look at myself in the mirror,
my face a giveaway
that today i was alive.
Gaby Comprés Mar 2018
i am waiting for a poem
a poem that is waiting for me
a poem that sits on the night like a star
a poem i did not write but instead lived
i am waiting for words
words that aren’t empty
words strong enough to carry this story
words raw and meaningful and unafraid
i am waiting for answers
answers to questions
answers to life
answers to this waiting
i am waiting for love
love that makes songs out of moments
love like coffee and milk
love that heals
i am waiting
i am waiting
waiting for me.
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