reassuring slumber breath
on an
exfoliated face
comforting yes
but it won’t
stop
the chatter of birds
a 4am sky
or
incessant thoughts

to the odd woman inside me that wants to get married

March 10th 2006

-and i know that she’s there which makes it most awful when i’m making solitary dinners so delicious i comment to myself about them. she likes to make things fun by imagining what it would be like to make espresso for two knowing that chit chat and some laughter will accompany buzz buzz buzz- of not falling asleep after a satisfying meal. there is a difference here in this woman. softer, with a cart at a leisurely pace down the aisle instead of the rip roar round the store and up to the counter, ready set--- out to the car, throw the meat you packed in with the broccoli in the back seat, quick quick, home and put them away and try to make something w/o disturbing the carefully balanced dirty dishes that have been perched on the counter for days.

this terrible woman comes to me at the strangest times and i try to brush her off the way i do the fruit flies that hover over top of my bread. she is walking through a party, with his hand on the small of her back, drinking mineral water and insists he does to- if she cannot—he slips into the bathroom w/ a hidden scotch. the bulge grows and is not unwanted, and there is that hue that radiates from her cheeks. when he finds her holding hands with a friend, he cannot but gulp for air with a pang of guilt. knowing damn well she’d rather be w/ glass of wine in hand, tilting back her head in laughter and stirring the dullest into their wits, for no party could be the same without that girl. she keeps finding me, she keeps smiling at me the way the woman on the sidewalk do to her. hands on hips, toes between sweet blades of grass, she paces at the park, head bent immersed while reading poetry to a man lying patiently on a blanket, waiting for her to tire and sit down. she finally does, sprawls on her back, lets a heavy head fall into his lap, and listens when he takes off where she left off.

she slips into the cereal i don’t eat for breakfast, and growls at me for not doing the laundry for three whole weeks. must cup a dry hand over her mouth the next time she visits and tell her to shut the fuck up.