I think this thing that I'm feeling is a long-felt pressure beginning to disappear, a weight beginning to lift and the sudden slackness leftover, as if nausea had disappeared and I were now weak with hunger, or if I stopped holding my breath and my lungs crumpled, or if I stopped bracing for it, let down my hunched shoulders, and let myself be rushed by the cold.
Monday, March 12, 2018
Saturday, March 10, 2018
SOME TEXTS
for Brianna Maria
I.
She's one of the lights—there, across the river—that make the city glow. About now she shutters her windows, darkens the rooms one by one, and reminds herself of things to remember come morning, and tells her cat she loves her.
II.
This is a good morning note. This is a "my life is better for having met you" note. This is a I'm-having-trouble-falling-asleep-because-I'm-imagining-doing-fun-things-with-you note. This a #2blessed2stressed note. This is a note recreating the way you slow down my cardiovascular system. This is a note written with one hand under my pillow, a note written in the cold, a note that pulls its meter from my chest. This is a note meant to be read in a waltz: bri-an-na, ma-ri-a. This is a note meant to be read in the first few strands of light lain over our forested city while an unyielding young feline vies for your affections. This is a note that declares (in a manner of sustained volume and steady tenor unavailable to my own human voice) that when I think of you, the whole world seems a bit more handleable.
III.
I'll take payment in the form of hugs and kisses, and maybe sweet treats 0:) But also some money, right? We'll figure that out later
I.
She's one of the lights—there, across the river—that make the city glow. About now she shutters her windows, darkens the rooms one by one, and reminds herself of things to remember come morning, and tells her cat she loves her.
II.
This is a good morning note. This is a "my life is better for having met you" note. This is a I'm-having-trouble-falling-asleep-because-I'm-imagining-doing-fun-things-with-you note. This a #2blessed2stressed note. This is a note recreating the way you slow down my cardiovascular system. This is a note written with one hand under my pillow, a note written in the cold, a note that pulls its meter from my chest. This is a note meant to be read in a waltz: bri-an-na, ma-ri-a. This is a note meant to be read in the first few strands of light lain over our forested city while an unyielding young feline vies for your affections. This is a note that declares (in a manner of sustained volume and steady tenor unavailable to my own human voice) that when I think of you, the whole world seems a bit more handleable.
III.
I'll take payment in the form of hugs and kisses, and maybe sweet treats 0:) But also some money, right? We'll figure that out later