there are always two sides to the same story
two voices singing the same song
maybe i was never enough
maybe i was, more than enough
sometimes i wonder if you wonder the same things

have you ever had the thought of running back
to put a semi-colon instead of
a full stop to our infinite possibilities?
do you sometimes fantasize us two
lying on paper-thin ice
in Alaska
and having no fears
because i'm holding your hand?
under the green, blue, pink, purple, yellow, red
aurora borealis
and millions of stars?
have our heads tilt toward each other
at 4:09 am
in our fluffy snow jackets and boots
and lean in for a forbidden kiss
just
one
kiss
then go back and gaze at the Milky Way
with more thoughts in our minds than there are stars reflecting in our eyes
imagine a place that is ours
it's where a wise man confused reality for dreams
it's in the middle of nowhere
in our deepest fantasies
it's where we hold on to each other
and everyone else simply doesn't exist...

at 4:09 am
i wonder
if sometimes
you wonder about me too.

after robin coste lewis*

the dogs do not have names
so you just call them
with a whistle
they bark still and still and still

they are not animals
they are just humans
that have lived out their lives
and found a new body

the dogs do not speak english
so you bark back
and they look at you,
ears raised

and mouths dry
and dumb, tongues,
rough like sandpaper
and teeth that shine like enamel pins

the dogs do not run
they move like water
muscles like leaves in
autumn

all you need is
an ocean calling
your name, the dogs
can't give you that

the dogs are all you need,
as they run and whisper to
each other
they do not speak english
so you curse each one in tsimshian

I didn’t know I needed to travel so far
A cup of coffee in a Sunday café
That was all I needed to explain
the things I found inside myself

But how could I know if I remained behind
Next to a fence deciding which side I’m on
And I knew that it was both
I can come and go,
remembering you either way

Mile markers waving goodbye
The top of the world,
white caps and wilderness
I knew where I was from,
what I was to become;
will you walk with me?

Winter carved summers underneath my feet
Glaciers waving to the lakes left behind
So much, the melancholy of nature
But I wasn’t sad,
No I was not

I longed to tell you something
I wasn’t gone; only away
But in everything I find new
I was reminded of why I love you

the walls of the inside passage
look the same from sound to straight
tugs and plugs dot the coastline
as the quartermaster rolls
giving time for evening glare  

pods are in sequence
as the high tail smashes and jaws at the krill
white bellies and sea cows bob and weave
as bow heads glide over haida gwaii  

northern lights dance
and tlingit chant
as the tide settles softly on savory shores
their getting hungry in hoonah
as the blue back and beating drums
mark the life blood of the sea  

driftwood nets
and sitka spruce
surround the cook house
ravens and tinhorns
man the scullery
kerosene lamps flicker
as clam shells roast
on open flames  

villagers stroll
on pebbled sand
in the harbor of souls
where ships set sail
on might and mass
into the steady winds
of the golden skies

ice fields (to the north)
of kryptonite blue
cutting hills at
a glacial pace
knuckle clouds
above the snowline
where warlocks
craft a hidden trade  

trappers, skinners
muscle shoals
grizzly feasts
in kodiak bowl
determined pilgrims
on a dead horse trail
in search of gold
the holy grail

i'll be home soon. i need to be surrounded by emptiness and bitter cold so i can think about something other than you and your angelic soul and how i'm so in love with you that i can't think straight anymore because you don't love me back

i could go all the way up north
to the oil fields where alaska
meets the arctic ocean and
i would still be reminded
of you with every wave,
every breath that freezes in
the air,
every drop of oil that pollutes
the water.

i could go all the way up north
to the oil fields where alaska
meets the arctic ocean and
i still wouldn't be far enough
away from you.

-z. vega

Didn't write this one, but its spirit cannot be undone

*She reads poetry in her pajamas
And laughs when there is no joke
She runs away from the rain
And dances in cigarette smoke

Pictures never capture
The whisps of silver hair
Surrounding her face
And following her everywhere

She never dreams when she sleeps
Only when she's holding *****
She drives around in the prairie hills
With a childish smile
After all, what has she got to lose?