do we fall apart?
or rise from pending ashes
steadfast family?

Lateral Movements

A slow smile came over my face as lights of years gone by shone below, sparkled as the descent began. A rapid descent towards lights and water, this coastal home once agin called to me and I remembered the ways in which I had often contemplated my pilgrimage back to the these seaside smells and morning fog. Spacious and new, yet reminiscent of the place in which I had found myself alone for so long. Driving along coastal cliffs and winding towards the sea, sitting in cold theaters sipping lemonade. Maybe there is a way back now, maybe the pilgrimage has begun. A slow meandering towards this small city of bridges and bright lights. Old friends welcome me home again and then there is this persistence of an old love, coast to coast our lives have continued to parallel and now at this moment these parallel tracks have merged whether by force or by chance, we find ourselves skating towards each other rushing and passing towards each other. We might find a moment to grasp hands, find a time to spin in this whirlpool of an old love that has become shockingly fresh like the cold bite of the pacific ocean. And yet my guard stays up, this chain link fence of curiosity remains intact while you lean your way in, I hide and hold back. My body feels weak from dancing, my brain feels weaker from staying up too late and yet I contemplate how to make this lateral movement possible, time to jump tracks and chase sunsets.

Apart Together

Time ticks on, we push for 20 minutes.
Reality nudges at the back of my mind with the heaviness of alcohol.
I watch your new self in your new novelty,
it's like nothing l've seen before
and yet I appreciate the ways in which we have grown apart together.
Your sweet kisses
and the way I have faced my larger fears in the midst of this weekend make me want to stay
and languish in the afternoon sun with you.
Can we find a happy medium?
Can I find a way out of this perpetuation of reality and escape to live in the daydreams of my weekends?
Time pushes on
we have minutes and the pressure of your body won't keep me here long enough,
but let's take these last moments to dote on eachother, slowly, softly.

Seasonal Hopes

Devouring crisp apples waiting for days of fallen leaves. Wishing for the thoughtful loneliness of antiquated Northeastern cemeteries. The bite of Autumn posts against the corner of a summer that never came. I find myself uninspired by old inspirations when the opportunity finally arises. Old scars of love and sun drenched weekends pulse as waves of fog roll on. Wishes for biting October sun or a new moon outrace thoughts on subjects more pertinent. This cycle of heavy kisses and lingering looks will undoubtedly end in ruin and loneliness, the kind of loneliness that I have once languished in, the kind that I have missed but fully intend to quickly return to. These dreams of Fall plague my thoughts and hinder all productive moves forward. Broken hearts and misunderstandings lie dirty and rusted alongside this long road, mine repeatedly among them. As a solemn queen trudges to her death I wait for Fall and fall back into old habits. Without the boundaries of a monochrome board of players I’m left to wander in wonder at this fleeting life, these iridescent pearls of experience strung together by robot-like movements. Smoke streams from the dying fire within my chest and I find myself staring into wisps of steam instead. Entangled like the partners of a pas de deux, smoke and steam, from my fires and boiling points dance past my vision only to reveal that wanton trail of candy red rusted hearts and lost crowns that once sat on stable heads. I dream for Fall so that I may hide behind high collared coats and feathered masks, so that I may waltz through this bright masquerade and find myself hidden in a crowd, hiding in plain sight and once again languishing in that crisp solitude of a harvest sunset.

Kisses taste the same
even after all these years
test me with them more