Memory flipping like a yearbook.

She used to wear red lipstick to dances 

and a respectable dresses​. Now

she teaches her daughter what to wear.

He brought beer to every party he would go to. Leaving

with someone new every night.

Now they share a house and a daughter going to her first dance.

I see you

in my dreams we dance to no music

holding each other close. I never

want this song to end. I never

want to leave this bed.

I see you

in random faces passing in the street

holding another close

buying a pajamas for them. So they

don’t have to leave this bed.

The beginning is an unopened map.

A calm pond without a neighbor.

A sprout in a lumonent spring garden.

The sun peaking over molded canyons.

 I am not your father. We

own this together, together

our duty

is to mark this map.

Lay in the garden tending to the tulips.

Swim in the pond and climb those canyons-

as one.

Stale conversation, no

repetitive conversation

with golden courage.

“Where are you from?

How many siblings do you have?

Where do you work?”

Not enough golden courage.

Really just a stabilizer to keep

the breathe roaming along

a narrow path of stim-

ulation.

The thrill of the hunt bites

the heart and never lets go. Bleed

down the forest and disrupt

tranquility. Bundle of roses for the beauty

and a bow for the hunter. Two breathes

before onyx eyes and the 60’s forest dissolves

on your tongue and your shaky palms dive

into your own life festering on the rooted earth-

you’ll see the great adventure.

 

We’ve been here before. The same

culdesac were your grandparents lived.

We held hands at there funerals and sang

Tiny Dancer. It was their song. Now its our

song. Whisper into my ear that you’ll hold me

closer. Dance on the pavement and count the head-

lights on highway. I’ll be your Tiny dancer and will live

here

at

your

grand-

parents

home until the lights go out.

I’ve hugged the ocean before.

Being swept away into the unknown

bearing nothing but the bear minimum.

I brought a camera.

No one knows what you look like

under your big blues

beating lashes under fore waves before beating hearts.

I caught you smiling:

have it wash on a shore

in between the sand

me and blue smiling back

to you.

I see you. Floating

above in baby blue

fresh to the world

blue collar.

Dirt underneath your fingernails

for the first time

blue paint scratched into your hard hat,

hard head.

I see you, baby hands,

soft hands

no more.

 

 

IF you thought about someone all day,

would you tell them?

Sweat dripped marathon

on crushed peanuts and

warm beer.

Would you tell them?

Make them lift into the sky

pumping smoke out of their

chest to create white clouds.

If you thought about someone all day,

would you tell them?

Your all I’ve ever wanted

now and back then.

My mama said I should

write you letters.

We never spoke the same

never speaking.

My mama said I should

write love letters.

I’ll write them now-

babe it’s too late.

She has a kid and

a nice guy.

I’ll write them now-

for me.