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  Dec 2014 lost in thought
Fish The Pig
Let's go to the mountain top
and scream
and scream
until the sorrow in our voices
is no more
"I don't feel anymore."
"I really envy that."

I turned on my side, the sun was peering through the window and laying ribbons of its light across her bare body. "You shouldn't envy that, Reno."

"Why shouldn't I?"
"Okay. Well, why do you?"

Her hand waved a lock of blond from obstructing her icy-blue sight. I could see the shadows of birds dance across her torso and past her face. "I'm afraid," her words spiraling from her mouth, "and I don't want to be."

"Afaid of what?"
"Everything. The world. Hunger. Bleach stains. Failure. ****** knuckles and the look of the person as they clench their nose, teary eyes and all. This. My father finding me. Dying before I get to do everything I want to do. Validation. I'm afraid of everything and I'm too young to be afraid of everything. I need two to four more years, tops."

Ten, twenty, and fifty seconds rained down the window. It felt like the wall of an aquarium, and us the aqua-blue evolution.

Rolling to her side, her hand blossomed around the curvature of my face, as I didn't know what to say. "Josh," her breath evaporating into syllables, "I'm too young for the world, so help me forget, okay?" My eyes followed her soft fingertips capped by lily fingernails, as her index and ******* walked from my stomach to between my legs.


After we made love, the water lowered on top of our heads and bodies as the steam rose. My hair was flattened against my skull, and her's gripping her back. Soap slid across her *******; lathering her abdomen, I asked her if I could see the soap. Reno scrubbed my chest and leaned into kiss me before placing it into my hand.


"When you're famous, who do you think you'll sleep with," she asked while stirring her coffee. Placing the muddy spoon on the table, she looked and added, "Who's your celebrity crush?"

"I'm not sure," I sipped my coffee before placing it next to my bagel,"I don't know."

"It's okay, buck. I know you'll forget about me when you become big, so just say."

I couldn't believe it.

"Okay, well, what's your wish, Reno?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"Say who you'd sleep with."

"Well, after I carelessly throw you to the side, I'll probably sleep with Parker Posey. Then, I'll go on a date with Emma Watson and hope that goes well," I regretted the way I spoke. "Like, I can understand the question, but what's up with the second part about me leaving you?"

Reno flicked the side of her coffee cup, and then drummed. "I don't know."

"I can't do the whole you feeling like you're not good enough for me. You are. You just are. I don't want it to happen because I really like you, but I won't allow myself to go farther if you insist on the... I mean, what's wrong?"

"I don't know," she she flicked her coffee cup harder, "I don't know."

"You know, Reno. You can tell me."

Tears sat at her eyes and they disappeared in the glare, as she looked out the cafe window. "It's not easy, you know."

"What isn't?"

"Loving you," she began to rip at the skin around her thumbnail,"it's not easy because I'm afraid. I'm afraid because it might be real."

Her eyes shifted towards me, the way her hair broke the echo of sunlight. Cancer cells.

"I'm dying, Josh. Whether you love me too or not, for one year to ten to never, you'll be with other girls because I'm dying. And that's that."
  Dec 2014 lost in thought
SE Reimer
~

it is a storm approaching
not the tempestuous kind
of driving rain or whirling wind
but a storm all the same
a marriage of sorts
of joy and of tears
of hopes and of fears
of death and of life
of what has come
with what has not yet
where photos and albums
and letters and cards
are all we can touch
of what has gone by.
 
yet there's a tree to light
there are gifts to wrap
their are cards to send
to loved ones dear
when the hug that we wish
the one we most want
is the one we can't give
this our loss has tied us in knots.
for memories and laughter
their kindest words
their shouts of joy,
these fade away
yet they’re all that remain
these join us at the table
these call in the park
at Sunday Mass
and post office,
but especially the back porch,
when it is quiet and dark.
they join us at parties
where thoughts of our missing
joins the gay, happy greetings
and on Christmas morn
when our gifts lie unopened
their chair is empty still
at dinner there's a space
that no one else will ever fill
in its place is a candle
a scent we know well
a light we'll not extinguish
perhaps it is the closest we can get
to their presence we so miss.

the storm on the inside
one that no one else sees
as they stroll down the street
as they shop merrily
our hearts beat hard but quietly.
inside we are breaking
this storm threatens to drown
yet there is no one around
who can save us
who ever would notice
or even know how to care.
its the cry of our heart
that no one can hear.
our tears brushed aside
hoping no one can see
this storm it is raging,
raging wildly in me.

i looked for a card
my thoughts to express
but the cards in the store
say nothing like this
no words such as weeping
or anguish are found
no phrases with lonely or angry
in the Christmas card aisle
so just how to reconcile
my juxtaposition?
how can I quell
this sense of foreboding
that i know all too well?
truth is, i cannot
i must go through
with this marriage
and pray that some day
some day soon, I can hope
that i will awaken
to see sunshine again
and consider these memories
not nightmares, but friends.

~

post script.
"blessed are those who morn, for they shall be comforted"  Matthew 5:4


*these are so many among us who mourn, in particular at what are otherwise joyous occasions.  for these ones, Christmas only adds to the acuteness of their pain.  for them, Christmas is a storm they know is coming, a time when they must prepare for, battening down the hatches of their soul, so they are assured their grief does not leak out on the joy of everyone around.  my advice for us all- know who walks near you well enough to reach out to them, give them a shoulder to weep on, share your tears with theirs. assure them you have not forgotten.  repeat the name of their loved one, a name they long to hear others speak.  for most of us, this name is one you cannot say too often. speak in the present tense of their loved one for they are not lost, they are still present and very much a part of the grieving one's life.  as just one of many examples, remember... a mother who has lost her only child is still a mother.  it is a title that she still bears, coming with all the burden, yet without any future benefit, these having been stripped away. love her, hold her, be shelter for her heart in the coming Christmas storm.
  Dec 2014 lost in thought
Tom t
For your lips
Id live a thousand lives.
A thousand of the most dreadful,
Misery filled,
Chaotic,
Grief-stricken,
Torturous,  
Agonizing lives.
If that meant
I can kiss your lips
One last time.
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