Dear Stranger,

I remember the day I first saw you. An ordinary autumn day spent doing menial tasks and then I saw you. It felt like time stood still in that moment. Through my eyes you moved in slow motion. You were probably doing menial tasks too but you look so beautiful doing it. In the moment it took you to walk 10 yards I already imagined what life would be like with you. I wondered what you look like smiling. I wondered what you sounded like laughing. I wondered what it might be like to hear you say,"I love you," or what kind of things I would have to do to hear you say it and then you looked straight ahead and our eyes met for a split second, it felt like an eternity. I never looked anyone straight in their eyes before and held their gaze. I remember everything. How could I forget your raven black hair? The way it fluttered in the breeze almost as if to torment my obsidian soul. The blush on your cheeks, the way they glimmered. The way your high cheeks complimented your nose. The way your cheeks curve into your jawline and the way it shot devilishly to your slender chin and those lips, God those lips. I remembered every curve, every inch of you as if you were place here in front of me to torture my wayward soul. It was like I was gazing at a baroque sculpture perfectly preserved and in exquisite detail. Something to marvel at from a far and never in close proximity for the fear that even my breathing should erode the beauty I see but yet I wondered what your touch was like. Would it be one of Midas or the state of the Gorgon Medusa? Even just the mention of your touch should have its own story, to be written down and read as a work of modern literature. You even walked towards me with such purpose. Shoulders back and held head high, like a warrior, a shield maiden. And for a moment, a moment no longer than what it took the wind to blow a leaf, I shook the petrified kid in me and worked the courage to smile. A small smile, no more than what would seem like a grin to others. I still held your gaze but when I say it was like being mesmerized by a shewolf it wouldn't do it justice, it was almost a tame ferocity but still feral in its nature. I smiled at you, god did I smile and god was I ever ****** for it. It was like sailing straight into a maelstrom and I braced. I braced myself the hardest I could in that single second. And that was when I broke. Oh did I break ever so beautifully. You smiled back and it ended this war of attrition I was having with myself. That smile was the crescendo of the day, so silent but so visceral and so deafening. By all accounts it was probably just a normal day for you but for me that was a moment I'll relive over and over. How serene and peaceful I became after. I became solemn, I became happy, and I was driven mad. I wish I could explain it. Star struck, yes that is the word. I was star struck.

I am waiting for the moment where I pivot and all that I can envision now is a blacktop and white dotted lines, maybe lanes of rolling white whipped green churning pinwheels going long down the road with a stalk of cud in my mouth can I ever go and unthink like the caramel burnt stained car chair that I rest in as a finger comprised of ash that will collapse in any second and Im telling you its beautiful to let go and see the small blue insects mixed up in a whirlwind of gray flecking flickers that you may capture with a white plastic bag it reads “shoprite” you remember times at the a&p; that was ay-em-*** to toddlers who were smarter to not distinguish between what seems and what is according to the strangers who walk the street, seem foreboding, and yet retreat indoors to steak dinners and why weren’t the tater’s in the oven at half passed six? Maryellen. I told you. I told you patriarchal. I sing from my molehill. My mother always fixed me a cherry pie told me I had the nose of a rodent and so I found my fathers gun, JOhny, white America, puh, would you think I’m on drugs because twenty-one and throw up when looking like chalk smeared on top of cheeks, these bones are feeling a bit decayed wont you examine what you’ve done to…who are you? And nowhere it goes. Nowhere it goes. I sit here im ****** you think it’s a joke but this blurb is worth
Less
Bag of blue sanddollars
Dipped in wax
With a wick
And a pick
A guitar string
And a tick-
Tock
Tick
Tock
Tick


Give it a lick
Peanut butter off a stick
I dunno whats to do or did
But theres a whole lot of mess out there
And we all are using it to smear messages in the listless purple filaments that cloud the sky

I’ve heard admonishments and thin mints in girl scout boxes ive eaten around glass patio tables with blue waters squarely pooled im sure your hair gel is swelling the heart of some hungry shewolf who will nibble or bite or swallow you, I do not know which one is which. But ive heard laments about nations and ignorance and I’m not sure who is more to blame or what could be a solution but to speak largely and loudly id need a microphone and a lot of ears or no a telescope and a broadcaster or better yet digital tools and the internet. Communication is the sopping soggy wet piece of bread that floats in my milk bowl and by the time my orange kitty paws move at it, the loose and expanded bits disintegrate and sink. A sink has a drain that gets clogged and we all must stare at it until it is cleaned and if I’m not the one cleaning my drain then who is the one cleaning my waste?

the sun shines through the window as the young princess watches the sun rise and fall each day to see the colors change with light. the trees sway against and with the wind, their leaves dancing and the branches doing the tango as they settle the wind calms. the princess' crown was placed on the edge of the chair that she sat upon with care. the sky's color walk along the air as the wind blew them in the right direction. The singing wind blowing through her hair, and the sun dancing circles along her skin. the monkeys make the trees scream with agony and the monkeys laugh at their pain. the fairies flutter around the lilies and the dragonflies, they sing of their long journey and the life they lived just to reach their favorite spot. something was watching the princess without her knowledge and she seemed to understand all the animals and creatures she adored. the salmon and orange making her seem different in a way, they flew behind her creating wings. pinks and oranges spread beautifully across her new wings as she joined her best friends in the beauty of flight. and the night was drawing near, but the princess didn't need to know that she would be missed with her creative friends, but also with her family. drawn between family and friends she choose to be with both. family during the day and friends all night long, even if it was in her dreams her friends would always be with her. with her new wings she flew with the fairies and ran with the shewolf faster than lightening she returned just in time to join the sun as its rainbow butterflies spread their wings and flew with grace to gather all the colors to create a beautiful sunrise, they taught her to be herself and always believe in your dreams and friends.

lock up
when anyone
seems

particularly disappointed
or demanding with me
not ideologically, but
in tone intensity,
conversing
forcefully

either I
turn off, go numb, freeze
taken over by survival mode

or I fight err flight it
usually trying to fly
with some fight
as I navigate
the exit

my 18-pound shewolf triggers me:
all barkybarkbark wanting things -
like ******* carrots after dinner,
and if I don't get them at first yip,
she insists, paws, jumps, getting
all super-***** indignant
(kind of adorably)

sometimes, I keep giving in
and get them (repeatedly)
because I'm a pushover

sometimes, I block her out
until she goes full self-righteous
and I feel bullied, get up and go
into the other room to breathe
and stop shaking

sometimes, I can extradite myself
before it gets all fullreactivejacket
like when my brother (drunkenly)
told me he didn't want my son
around his, because I told him
Santa is just a cultural myth
that we pretend for fun
when he asked

apparently, I'm an *******
for making decisions for my kid
that I'm comfortable with, not him,
and thinking there's way more magical
**** in this world to be excited about
than a random fat man breaking and
entering your house to bring presents
as long as you leave him cookies...

I have a mouth on me, but I try
not to use it, because I am
quite accurate in aim
and loaded with
cutting truth

but I
don't wanna fight
anymore

because I lived
in a war zone

in the beginning
the fights would last for
d   a   y   s

or should I say,
the raging lectures
while I tried to reason
how and why
my thoughts
differed

he always had a way
of making me feel
solely responsible
for everything

he'd go onandonandon
until I acquiesced, agreed and
promised to give in to whatever
he believed the solution to be
(usually me cutting someone
out of my life or giving up things
I thought I liked)

and if I disagreed,
or picked holes in his argument,
he would start back at the beginning, because I must not have been listening

it stopping,
and subsequent silence
was such an enormous relief -
when adrenaline stopping pumping
and I could hear myself think
just grateful and happy
to be done
with it

I would disassociate
hard

sometimes
there would be
a traumatic scene
that was quite ******
but then a few days later
I couldn't remember
what happened
but knew
it was

bad

I started writing
some of those episodes down
so I'd know what happened to me -
for future reference, that I wasn't
crazy

so, I
latched onto
the peace and quiet
while it lasted

and as his words
had less and less effect,
the more crazy he'd act
to get me
in line

once when
I did not acquiesce at all, proud
in the face of his domineering storm,
standing firm, calmly disagreeing,
stating my case matter-of-factly,
he cupped his hands over my ear
and screamed as loud as he could
rage rattling me
into tears

I wish the imprints
on my psyche faded
as fast as the bruises

I don't know if I'll ever be
completely normal

but I do know

I will try
to tread lightly
around your triggers
and not take it personally
when they inevitably
detonate

I will learn them
like I know my own
and I will understand why
you do what you do

because when I say yes,
it's going to be
to everything

She sands
For what is right
What doesn’t **** her makes her
Stronger
With the black hair
Blowing in her face
The she will stand for
Justice
Fidelity
Bravery
Integrity
And the protection
Of the innocent
From Tantra and other forms of evil
She is a
Tibetan FBI agent
A shewolf.

shewolf
mother protector
naturally as nature

she rocketed through the house,
gurgling, grinning, groping,
a woman unleashed in the shell of a child,
knickers, legs, chest, fingers,
thunderbolting into the fridge,
harvesting pleasures,
strawberries, mango, pistachios,
dance blasting to japanese cute pop,
lyrics unknown,
but dutifully replicated with intent,
the teeth of the shewolf unbrushed,
hair sailing into orbit,
shorts in the rain,
t-shirt in the snow,
the oven in her chest, bakes me alive.