Heart I have carried

Hands
gripping her so tightly sometimes
its as though I doubt her very form is formed and out
when once she swam, simply submerged in me
and my muffled lullabyes
would flutter by

And at my breast,
my sole quest
has become to nourish, expand
She's my baby honeybee
taking only what she needs, and
helping us bloom all around her

my petals are less taut these days,
womb weary,
but I am in deep respect, awed by every honest inch of me

She now commands a room,
bringing out the softest side of her adoring audience,
every sound she makes is awarded with a small standing ovation and a flurry of delighted sounds and blinding lights

To her, I'm a benevolent giant
who is there within the last note of her first cry,
asking for nothing yet getting to hold a bit of heaven

She taught me the basics of grace by simply arriving,
and within her sweet life
at long last, I have found my own

-Armored-
mi amor,
for this world may try to eat us...

to me, you are
the first green, rooted strong, that's brave enough
to show after a hard frost

a light for this path,
a way back home and a new home

My David,
my aurora borealis

There will be days and days and years to come where I'll be
a girl Goliath,
but continue to calm me, please

I live to live with you, mi amor

for this armor melts away with only your touch

my sweetest heart,
my bluest eye

my beloved

God save me from
all
the delicious bores,
two-headed politicos,
the constant parade of overly-pearly white teeth
and flawlessly manicured lawns, nails
and
trendy vintage and baby acorn salads
and the plasticization of the young and not-so-young
and
faux hawks and faux lives
with faux "hi's"
and faux "byes"

-starving for Audrey Hepburn and simple moments
alone with old earth and new eyes

In some rare quiet moments of these long days, I sometimes forget I am carrying such a gift

Swimming away, inside and out

Limbs ache, for every aching part is stretched to the limit and more - for us

I dive, willingly, into the chlorine-filled womb - to relate to you, to give strength to us, so you can get here safe and I can fight through this

Once in and surrounded by water, I feel as though my heart's come home

If they could see us now (the doubters, the weak, the snide and the pitying) -

the water swells and Thethys emerges...

It is no small wonder that I have summoned her strength

and prepare,

in the hugeness of love,

to carry you who carries our greatest, smallest world -

a tiny heart that's the heart of us

I drown my fear away

Lights on and suddenly, a whole world is there for the eager and hungry

I am fully stocked

Knives from your boss, a wedding gift

Cutting boards that have seen showy summer cilantro and many cuts as an amateur learns

how sharp sharp can be

I have seen your exuberance

I have seen you become more

...seasoned

I watched for hours as you painstakingly chopped, simmered, stole every bit of grandma's recipe,

impressing friends and your husband

I have seen you open new worlds,

splatter the walls like a mad painter/scientist

evoking the spirit of an ecstatic Julia Child and the

steel will (wool) of an iron chef

I can seem as foreign and expensive as your saffron threads

and simple as honey

I have seen you become his true wife,

getting the ingredients just so...

Inside of it

once every available limb stopped burning slow

and my heart ceased to race so frantically, I posed proper

breathing in (why cant I completely let it in?)

breathing out (missing you so bad, my "miss yous" miss you)

reaching out of the insides

leaves me full of enormous empty

clean again,

content for now

My whole body becomes more steady,

stealth

as stationary as Sinai

as soft as a sigh

or a cobra, coiled or reeling from an attack

sometimes the mouse that's about to be devoured...

or maybe, truthfully, becoming n o t h i n g

a board on the old wooden floor,

a blade on the lazy fan that barely moves the simple air around,

I disappear

staying quiet, still...

no one but you and I

I, who carries you like a Christmas present,

walking soft, with a grin and a

prayer

am overwhelmed by what I have been chosen to perform (what a gift! what a task!)

this sickness, this exhaustion is taking everything and everything is going to be fine

staying in survival mode, protective

no one but you and I

I, who has rivers and lakes and streams of strength that you may be surprised to see

I have evoked the spirit of my mother and my Mother

I, too, have swam and seen the beginning...

the tiny kindergarden class room
Love bloomed for the first time
i made a figure 8 with chalk, 2 circles atop each other, amid giggles, my redfaced try at normal numerals
growing to wonder of cats in hats
and stones in soup

but the biggest little thrill of all...
sitting Indian-style next to him and his coveted cowboyboots

weavings

in worlds behind
these eyes,
the handsome figment,
(a girl's girlish delight)
surfaces, in the silent scream of vivid dreams,
electric blue eyes
dance (and promise)
and he lays the strongest hands down,
and I curl up safely in them,
hiding from day
light
and shadows in his face and anxious
alarms

Again
I found a secret ache
Buried in frantic, busy business

Years ago, I stoked it like a fire
I chased the blue ‘til I bled and nearly had to bury it down sweetly

Eager and hungry, I’ve set out again
To find the things that
Fanned the flame….

my white dress

My white dress…

Knows nothing

It fits like him and I
Snug and chic and oh-so-soft
It knows nothing of our moment
Of surrender or
, the way my body really looks, the scent of us together, or his Icelandic eyes

It knows nothing of
Our clumsy life,
Our throw-down, the hugeness of this love

my white dress...
Assumes everything
And lies in stillness
I’m the life that puts it in motion
And his is the one I will move with
In every dance,
Every chance
I want my dress and I to float up to him
And vow, with honeytongue,
To have and have and hold him

(My white dress is surrounded in a lie like diamonds)

the city

new new york
the same stores with different versions
the giant metal worm of the subway
the dark Avenue B bar,
the tipsy Rockfeller letdown,
the lack of clean space,
unknowingly smoking the entire city’s cigarettes,
my favorite was
the eccentric
Basquiat park, with strange metal twists and statues
And the free Little India wine
with mango ice cream

Indian Summers

sweet, sticky, hissing warmth
looking for excitement and escape out of my bedroom window
recalling the slow sound of a saxophone down the street
the summer made sweat cling to my clinging nightgown,
mornings were spend waiting for epiphanies about the cool water strokes,
the explosion of fireworks, evening ice tea and sweet girl rhymes of silly loves filled most nights
I, finding a bit of honeysuckle on the summer-worn path, tasted sunshine and wanted to share…
Guilty only of slathering myself with summer, filling the lackadaisical time with whispers,
Prayers

The smallest voice

One step. Mesh pink panties and padded push-up on
Her angry eyes, betrayal reflecting betrayal
Trudging home
Spinning
Wanting to re-do the night, begging pleading bargaining with my god
Wondering how deep the hurt would
Go, I find my voice, still an ally and told every trusted friends
Wanting to redo my body, looking for a cure to make her clean again and new again

Turned to every possible poison
Voice muffled with the roar and smell of alcohol, smoke and easy times…

Reemerging time and again
Listening to professionals, pastors with knowing voices, good intentions

The bright red protest inside has faded ,
The knives turning back into nerves,
Turning back on it all…

I am not immune. I am in control. I am not alone.

Step one
Grow a garden where a war zone used to be…

wilting/waiting

The cold feet slide and flirt,
Unnoticed
The hope of his every inch
Inching towards me
Flutters around,
Silently,
Like feathers in a tomb…
Living on air and emptiness,
My nerves
Grow fast as ivy
I pray for patience or Pele’s fire