Night Swimming

bare foot in front of bare foot
down to the edge of the dock.
toes glean the water's ripples,
rendering a nearby skimmer bug
unemployed.

the very same ripples turn moonbeams to serum
fawns to mirrored siblings
trees to towers.
the lake's boundaries never breached,
for the body knows its place.

nature's measure of silence flows freely as wind
always chirping, chattering, chiding
but she is not offended.
this new kind of quiet surrounds.
lonely is an impossible feat.

Little Red Rambling Hood

into a cold sweat breaks,
caffeine-free pulse pumping
--fingers extend past their prime
typing love letters to a squirmy future
that writhes beneath its mask.

musical shards of glass sprinkle brows
tricking melodies to tear at tears
as ear canals flood gates of wrath.
thinking digs the rut the mouse built
while foresight dismantles fairy tales.

Ernestly Emulate

Ernest Hemingway was once challenged to write a six word short story. He offered, "For sale: baby shoes, never worn." He sparked an eternal literary provocation to those who value brevity and multiple meanings. An original:

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

My love,

There's been a misunderstanding.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

I bet you can't write one.
[oooh, blogger trash talk.]

*See Stephen's here.*

May the Fourth Be With You. Tee Hee.

This is the 2nd 4th I've been alone for. "Alone," though, is a relative term, and one of the ways in which I am is quite apparent. But when I dance around the kitchen while my dad bakes cookies and Skye raves in her aviators to "That's Not My Name," I can focus on what and who I'm surrounded by. Really, I always should. It's gotten a lot easier these past weeks.

To the Lucy who ran around the block yesterday to Regina Spektor's melancholy beats, fighting tears and ignoring her target heart rate because 193 bpm cemented her vitality, listen to me. You can be happy. Choose to.


Happy Independence Day, loves. While holding on to the force, reach for peace.

I wish I had the clarity to write more than stream-of-consciousness.

"In this state I shall not remain."

Not only does it rain on the just and unjust alike,
it rains on the Swiss and Australian alike,
the coal miners and CEOs.
And I can't know for sure because I was not in both places at once,
but I'm pretty sure the rain is bigger in North Carolina.
Bullet big.

I like being awake and alone until the playlist reminds me of how alone I could not be.

I'm building things by myself, and that's why they're falling apart. My brothers and sisters in Christ imagine my place in the kingdom to be crucial. In the depths of my psyche, from my tailbone to my toes -- I can feel the same thing. We're all crucial. But on the end of my cruciality I still tag "eventually." And I pray. And I pray and I pray. And I listen. And I smile.

Butane Lighter

"Glass slippers are a pain,
and armor tarnishes."

***

"And when you find you're done with me,
done with me is all you'll be."

Will You?

I had this dream last night that it was a big deal anniversary
that I accidentally found both tiny diamond rings
and the receipt totaling them at $150.
He proposed with the smaller of the two
and pawned the other.

I take this to mean that the economy has a long way to go
and that I will be happy.

(The proposal was untimely and naive, so I declined.
I shouldn't have.
You can't go back in time, and you can't go back in dreams.
I do believe it's worth hoping that tonight's dreaming will find both me and an atmospheric chasm,
repeat itself,
and give me a second chance.
Every day has the potential to change its night, however,
and I may decline again.)