Young girl you are young.
young girl, you are a girl.
Young.
A Girl.
Skipping Through,
the graves of people you never knew.
Young Girl,
Your shoe,
on graves of people you never knew.

Twenty-three, not eighty,
the age of the grave outside your reach,
so you skip to remind yourself,
leaping to remind yourself,
screaming nonsense to REMIND yourself...
you are young.
Dance on the graves of strangers because you are free
and so are they
And why should that be a secret to keep.
Weep for me,
on these grey macabre slabs
countered by bright flowers,
Can you see the flowers?

Young girl,
you wonder things.
Young girl,
the moon says things tonight.
You are more alive in the home of the dead,
more alive than your society allows you to be,
more than your gender can handle.
Young girl, let the stars shine through you,
the same stars that illuminate your morose setting.
It is not sad, you are not sad.
This is a celebration with one guest,
young girl,
you invite the rest!

"This too shall pass"
is a phrase that I apply to remind me this anchor will detach,
But as for now, I stare blankly at a fellow passenger's rust colored shoe,
paying close attention to the stitching--every detail.

Pushing down the urge to *****.
Angry at every beautiful thing that's here when you're not.
My ears muffled with despair at every voice I hear that is not yours,
Reminded of the lively ants that littered the porcelain sink I bent over when I got the news.
REminded that their lives were pointless.
I could thumb their bodies into the porcelain and end them.

They were my only company though,
and misery likes that sort of thing.

The smell of travelers permeates the air.
My bag full of ***** laundry and this journal.
People stare at me and I believe their eyes say "sorry",
I must look like a freshly cleaned window.

I'm writing like you taught me to,
a poem,
like you taught me to,
Struggling with the decision to touch your now cold hand
or remember your warm one.

"Cold hands, warm heart",
You told me that.
With my guitar, I'd make like Orpheus and compose a melody,
to fish you back to me.
You loved when I played and I'd fall asleep to the sound of your piano---
laden with arthritic flaws, making it perfectly human.

You were my Beethoven.
I want to leap onto a bed of your clothes,
your sweaters, because you were endlessly cold,
your scarves that accompanied your overcoats,
Your lotion, your perfume, all items in your room..
NO little kid in India can have them!

You and I were friends, generations apart.
I hope I can live without my heart.
**** that house, all the doctors!
**** the faithless kin!
Anger resides in me like a squatter,
I don't want to be this angry-not for you--not on behalf of you,
NO. You are kind.
Hug the anger out me!

I will wait for the beauty to slowly leak back in and not be a nuisance as it is now.
The flowers **** me off because they live without you planting them.
I hate tea--I don't want to drink it anymore because that is OUR thing.
I am mad at all the wonderful things that exist because you don't.

A sign above me reads ,

Life vest under your seat

I'll bring it to you.
See you soon...

Hi.
Hello.
Distanced greetings to replace what I would rather say to you.
You may be a "hi" on a Monday but on my day off, you are a "please come over".
On day off number two, you are a "see me, touch me, be with me",
not With me--with me, I could not handle that,
but be near me like we use to,
how we can manipulate the clock into making the day 25 hours long without noticing.

Time is more observed now.
I see an hour spent with you like I see a full moon,
waining, waining,
I am Waiting, waiting to effortlessly know you again.
Do not worry about your privacy, I don't want to take it.
I am not in love,
this is not about that,
if it were, I would know what to do.
No, this is something much more permanent than the fluctuating ecstasy of love.
This is loss.
You know that is hard for me.
I can't go on a date and laugh and drink and forget.
To be clear, I am not upset if you can.
Maybe all you are losing is me,
maybe that thought has settled in and been accepted,
look at all you can gain now,right?

I lose weight. I lose sleep. I lose support. I lose a second family. I lose holidays away from home.
I lose friends that were yours, that were mine, that were really yours.
I lose you and it is more than I am used to losing.
I stub my toe every time I say your name, think your name,
hoping it will force me to stop thinking your name,
this is not a fun game.

The pieces of us when we broke, no longer fit,
with that I agree,
but don't  you think with all the pieces of you and all
the pieces of me,
one is hiding to be found when we are whole people.
It's a nice thought anyway that stops me from down playing what we were.

I often convince myself of a truth that could be possible.
You do not care for me,
you will not call me,
you will not remind me any of this was real
because you don't love me.

You write in that book what I want to hear in my ear,
Please don't study me and take notes.
The experiment chapter is over.
You got the results,
I got what is left.

I want to build a house around us
And in it our favorite things,
Walk here, jump there
sniff around, pull the strings
Laugh loud, spin around
And when we are through,
we will rest in the mess we made.

You want to see the puddle counterpart.
To mirror my behavior is problematic.

That's two people that won't call
Two people that won't say the words aloud
Two people who can't stay out of each other's head
Two people trying to break in
Two educated fools ignoring the rules of
attraction.
Two traveler souls who split at the fork to avoid the storm

Why do we have these things that don't know how to stay together on their own?


                With an outline from a welcoming fingertip along
The perforated edges,
Of what's supposed to be hidden------
You found,
You poked through,
You left hollow.

With this hand, I thee write,
With this hand, I find other hands to hold.
With this hand, all that fits is yours...