with tenacity and flirtatiousness
keep your feet planted firmly on the ground
will you let him crawl into your heart
with a blanket and a book?
will you let him stay awhile?
or will you make him work for it?
days and weeks
of long talks and coffee dates
waiting nervously
on the other side of the door with flowers
laughing and complimenting your dress over dinner
until the moment when your both ready
to climb into that hot air balloon
floating away
towards the future
together
here i am, on a rainy saturday morning, stumbling towards happiness with flour, sugar, and good faith in hand, unprepared and willing to continue. i'm conquering and making mistakes, looking forward to days filled with shoulder massages and hugs.
i want to get to that place, where you're honest with yourself, and i have the courage to be assertive, to make my feelings known. you once ran off with my heart, without permission, thank you so much for bringing it back and helping me mend it.
are we taught to love by those around us? qualities of humanity and decency, qualities that reflect one's character, are those inherent or learned?
lying awake, thoughts race through my head and i know a time of transition is coming. just as summer ends, i am being faced with new opportunities and am seeing myself go down a different path. my character will be challenged, my work ethic, my creativity, my patience.
tonight, the mosquitoes are in a frenzy and they love my legs, especially my ankles. the bites itch and ache as i try to sleep. i writhe constantly, tangling myself in the wrinkles gray sheets. i can't seem to get comfortable. i need stability. i need answers.
we may even hold hands beneath street lamps
late at night walking back to your apartment
i will sigh my big sighs and cry my big cries
when you disappoint me
just like i smiled my big smile and laughed my big laugh
when you moved me in the beginning
and when you are gone, weeks later
i will let him put his arms around me
because that's what you do when you have to move on
they will be warm and willing
but not as strong as yours
and when i go home
it will make me miss you more
it's beautiful day and the fog of humidity creates a layer of moisture on my brown skin. my head aches from too many gin and tonics. as i climb out of bed, i follow the trail that last night's outfit left behind on my floor all the way to the kitchen, to replenish my dehydrated body with glassfuls of ice water.
yesterday morning, i rode my bike to china town, evading the numerous joggers on the lakefront path. arriving hungry and sweaty, we sat at a communal table with unfamiliar faces and listened as they spoke an unfamiliar language. we ate dumplings and drank many cups of delicious brown tea before exploring the shops selling live fish, swords, rice cookers, and candies. riding back we talked about family and hope, gushed about travels and love, and new friendships, our voices often getting lost in the breeze.
when i got home, i took a nap and got ready for the night, which turned out to be equally memorable. celebrating a friend's birthday, i ate wonderful mexican food with a group of highly-entertaining people i barely knew. later, i danced all night in my yellow floral dress with a guy from out of town, who surprised me with his smooth dance moves and conversational spanish.
driving home at four a.m., the sensation of the day flew through my memories, the complex flavor of the steamed shrimp dumplings, the wind on my face as i rode home, the bass of the music pounding. i sorted and recollected through these moments all the way home, as i drove through the empty chicago streets feeling very much in love with my life. this is what weekends are supposed to be like. this is what i needed.
its late now
almost tomorrow
and my mattress seems to expand
beyond the gray corners of my room
remembering the first time
the magnetic force of chemistry
tangled sheets and a hot mouth
my lips against your illustrated skin
waking up in the middle of the night
feeling your chest rise and fall
as we would spoon
like puzzle pieces
that's what i really long for
sitting on the counter
a pot of rice cooks on the stove
my feet dangle a foot off the ground
i drop my shoe and then the other
like ripe apples falling from the tree
my counters are a bit grainy
bits of flour and sugar reside on my hands
i haven't really cleaned my apartment
except for my kitchen and bathroom
in about a month
today i will organize my refrigerator
and the drawers and closets too
clean and wash it all away
the dust bunnies and smudges on the glass
and your dead skin cells
the things that are so effortless in their construction
are those we throw away with such recklessness
even though they're hard to find
we say we want a real connection
but do not take connections seriously
we focus on the physical, the last-minute make-out
after a night of drinking, dancing
to ease to pangs of loneliness
giving in to fear and insecurity
afraid to communicate our intentions
seedlings never given a chance to grow
i want something real
(would be willing to give up the single life for)
that rush of admiration
unequivocal mutual devotion
chemistry you could bottle
promises and secret desires
(and butterflies)
marriage and love
a little rented apartment
kids running through sprinklers
bike riding through city streets
someone to cook with after a long day
hugging and holding
late-night talks in bed
commitment and friendship
(forever)
