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Aug 2017
I’d like to take you to this moment, it’s five in the afternoon and downtown Portland is quiet.

The sidewalks are cluttered with bodies silently moving,
sleepily dodging the sun
the sounds of sirens
doors slamming
cars braking for red lights
fill the lapses of time
I walk slowly through the crowd
reflections of sunlight jumping off tower windows
illuminating my elbow
three freckles on my forehead
my right knee
The space surrounding me smells strongly of burning tobacco
foods dipped in boiling oil
rich, dark coffee.


There’s a way my lungs jolted before and there’s way they do now.

The parachute of air running in and out
flexing like wings inside my chest.
How they used to flutter


how they once had a choreographed routine

                        designed around their sudden need jolt
                      
                                                  whenever they thought of being near lips


Now, in the shadows of concrete and plexiglass they remain following a newfound mundane routine
flapping their wings only to keep me upright
only to feed the world between my ears


I’d like you stand in this moment

                               wrap your fingers in the way loss pulls like a trigger

Wake you  up to the world where the towers finally fall
allow you to watch as they cascade towards you and feed each human instinct that follows, do you run?
Do you stand in fear?
I want you here in this moment alone
in your interpretation of a body

I want you to see the way I pull on you
the way I run from you
the way I stand
glued to the ground
as each wave washes over me

The way you came into my life anxious
the three seconds where the entire block is silent
and you can suddenly hear each and every single one of the vibrations your body makes
when no one is looking you in the eyes as they pass you by.

I don’t even know how bite into you
                                                          when you’re just the lapse in time

the five in the afternoon lull that manifests the slow
rhythmic pulsing of my heart
feeding only to keep me alive
the machine that clicks at every passing minute

                                                         I want you to crave the connection

the sounds of voices
the stem of a scream to grow inside your throat

                                                        let it consume you

the way it does me
a fear not of being alone, but never truly being seen
Laurel Leaves
Written by
Laurel Leaves  F/Pacific Northwest
(F/Pacific Northwest)   
403
     Cinzia, Jamil Massa, bea and chloe james
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