girl.

there’s kombucha in my fridge
and crystals in my pockets
totems
they make me feel good
i curse like a sailor
i like sailors
my dad was one in a past life
and my grandpa
lately I’m thinking of his faded tattoo.
I sweep the house at 2am
hot showers are a place to listen
that little voice
and a place
to wash salt water
from a lover’s body
a space for tears to roll down the drain
i might forget your birthday
but if you need a shoe
i’ll offer my whole damn foot
I’ll celebrate you
on some insignificant afternoon in September
nowhere near your birthday
when the party is over
and you just need a friend.
i may be short on dollars
but I’ll cook you a meal
and there will be love
in every simple bite
avocados are a gift from god
when they are ripe
they are so damn ripe
i’ll rip the band aid off
i’ll remember the wound
when it has left your skin
i’ll kiss it while you sleep
“have you eaten?” is the most romantic question
if we can stop an argument
mid yell
to laugh
i’m yours
if you’re 84 or 5 or 20
i’m your friend
i don’t see age as a concept that can define friendship
if you like dancing
name the time
tell me about your life
i’ll keep your story safe
i’m praying for you
even when you think I’ve forgotten you
even if you don’t believe in that stuff
i don’t need a shelf for my books
i don’t even need the books
they’ve been read
nothing belongs to us
paper stories making their way
to their next visitor
if I give you a book
it means I love you
it means there’s a mind space I want to meet you in
community is for communing
abundance
is how much you can give
i fuck up
a lot
i’m not too proud to say I’m sorry
there’s no shame in re-parking the car
if the angle wasn’t right
if you flip me off
i’m flattered
i’m trying
perfection is boring
there are skeletons in my closet
if you ask me
i’ll let them dance with yours
how do you like your eggs?
across the many beds
i have fortunate enough to sleep in
I’ve eaten eggs with mozzarella
with masala spices
i’ve had them sunny side up
and scrambled with apples
buffet tables
and hip brunch restaurants
and baby shower quiches
dorm dining halls
a tiny Manhattan kitchen
An Indonesian jungle
and times when the pain
was so great
it was all I could swallow
and when they were all I could afford
when they were all I could offer a guest
i’ve bought them
in 99 cent stores
and Whole Foods
and corner bodegas
and been given boxes of them straight off a farm
i’ve had them in hotels
and at my mother’s kitchen table
and roadside diners
parking lots on cold mornings before heading to set
and in my bed
and yours
and that morning in Thailand
when I rode that unruly elephant
and they were so spicy
so very very spicy
and in Cuba
when I ate them with beans and rice and was home
i cooked them for you
you cooked them for me
in butter
in olive oil
in coconut oil
in boiling water
if we’ve cracked some eggs together
there’s a morning
and probably a night
or many
i will never forget.
i desire not to own a single thing
except maybe this T-shirt
this T-shirt is good
it has holes
i earned
through wear
i think I would save this T-shirt in a fire
It holds more memories than photographs
but I like those too
when they are paper
touch
the ones that are fading
they’ve been around
like my jeans
“vintage”
because I like that they are worn in
and cost ten bucks
and I’ll never know the person who wore them in for me
but I like knowing they exist(ed)
and that they sewed on a new button when the old one fell off
i like your wrinkles
they show me you have been somewhere
teach me about loving
an afternoon drinking coffee in the sun is bliss
i’m impressed with kindness
if you show me bills I see is paper
if I spent the money
i’ll make some more
travel is all ways worth it
dollars are everywhere
if I’m willing to collect them
i’m grateful for two legs
some days I cry on my bicycle thinking how lucky I am to have legs to push me forward
how did I get this lucky?
how?
if you need some tea I’ll make it
nothing makes me happier
sometimes we need something to warm our insides
don’t tempt me with skinny dipping
i’m always down
and it’s not always appropriate
so the world tries to tell me
but water on the skin feels so damn good
sometimes I just have to share
my body with the naked moon
not all solo diners are lonely
are we afraid of them
because they enjoy their own company?
ask me anything
i might alarm you with my answer
i’m too tired to lie
there is no situation where it’s inappropriate to be human
when the woman I have claimed as my sister
shit her pants at the Taj Mahal
i knew I could always be myself with her
don’t apologize for having a human body
a human heart
bed head is my favorite head
i love people who own stamps
do you want to be my pen pal?
i’m always trying to fit a life into a day
if I’m late
if I made you wait
i’m sorry
i’m still trying to figure out what time is
high tech watches haven’t helped
i’m working on it
i once put a face mask on my dog
she’s my best girlfriend
i still can’t figure out why I can’t take her
to places like doctor’s offices with me
i’d give anything to run
through a jungle
again
being simple is freedom
i feel successful when I help someone with directions
directions are hard
i still have to check how to get from a to b
even if it’s a daily route
i get lost in the neighborhood I grew up in
it’s part of the thrill
when something old is still new
teach me about my body when you touch me
no two touches are alike
do tears of laughter and tears of sadness taste the same
i once licked your eyeball
because I couldn’t get close enough to you
i wanted to crawl up into your thunder beating heart
we laughed so fucking hard
i can still taste that joy
love doesn’t end when a relationship ends.
formalities with someone I’ve shared my bed with
will never
be something
I will even attempt
to wrap my head around.
making my mom pee her pants with laughter is my sick and twisted past time
when she goes sprinting to the toilet with her pants around her ankles, I could die happy
i love the quiet in the house when I’m the only one awake
i’m learning to be a morning person
it takes hours of reading and writing and processing
before I leave my room
It may not always be this way
but for now
i took the pills for the chemical imbalance in my brain
when it got bad enough
when the hole kept getting wider
i understood
being tough isn’t enough
that help is a complete sentence
i want to live.
emotional sobriety turns me on.
bringing someone a glass of water turns me on.
glances across rooms turn me on.
i’m still learning what turns me on.
if we started complementing people’s insides as much as we complimented their outsides...well you understand.
i still remember the first time
my father touched my belly hanging over my skirt
as I sat in his lap
and said “what’s this?”
it wasn’t until I loved another woman
that I understood my body too could be lovable
that all women are delicious.
that my body too might be delicious.
i’m still learning this.
there’s far to go.
i play with my belly because it’s fun
not because I wish it weren’t there.
i eat because I’m hungry
most times
that wasn’t always the case.
i don’t have to fill my stomach to feel full of life
most days
i used to escape with television.
i’ve learned life is more interesting.
feelings are more interesting.
the smell of cut grass is more interesting.
a great Saturday night is a sound bath and a good slice of pizza.
i feel more beautiful in my nightgown
and bare feet
than any pair of heels
who invented heels?
i’ve been wearing doc Martens since the 6th grade
every time I put them on
i think of riding in my best friend’s mom’s Volvo
and potato chips dipped in ranch
my mother was missing but somehow I felt safe.
my mother taught me to share what we had
the homeless used our shower
our neighbors brought us groceries
there was always enough
and the dog always got a taco at the drive-through
what’s mine is yours
even my body is borrowed
from the earth
i’m starting to like the way it fits
what’s in the pockets?
what’s in the kitchen drawer
amongst the soy sauce packets
what’s in the back of the freezer
my 16th birthday and thanksgiving pie
a loose tooth and a string
I can’t find the other end
a skinned knee
a first kiss
a morning
her skin on my back
my feet
in the dirt
a tricycle
his smile on my neck
a packed lunch
a floral dress
a school dance
a hammer
a pen
and a thrift store lamp
these words
and some more
I haven’t found
yet.