Monthly Archives: July 2014

J.J.

He calls me “bud” and bumps my fist with his
when we’ve reached the end of the sidewalk
and are going our separate ways,
a sharp contrast to when he said I “glistened”
and I gave him one raised eyebrow,
readied myself for the last set, and said,
“It’s called sweat. I’m sweating.”

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Potential

From blissfully unaware
of the pieces that have been
part of me forever
to painfully aware
of the power I’ve only just begun
to unleash in small,
constructively destructive bursts…

From half-assed efforts
to rebuild myself
to full-force determination
to be a woman
I’ve not yet been…

This is the transformation
for which I’ve longed.

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July 17th

My day
(they call it “mine,”
but I share it with at least one…
two, actually…maybe even a million others…).
Strike that.
This day, to me,
is exactly that –
a day.
It was once a day for milestones –
to drive, to donate blood, to vote,
to drink, to rent a car.
It was, a few times,
a day for disappointments –
the failed test (twice), the lack-of-iron denial,
the wrong candidate, the blackout-drunk,
the I’ve-still-never-rented-one.
Now, I’ve made it mine.
Not half of the eternal pair.
Not impossible expectations.
Not their decisions on my behalf.
Mine.
Alone – in name and in atmosphere.
My recharge, relaxation,
renewal, rediscovery.
And that
is gift enough
for me.

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Day 1

I could not stay awake past ten.
But I awoke in the middle of the night,
and for a moment,
it felt like my muscles weren’t responding
to the signals from my brain.
“Move. Turn,” it coaxed them
“You’ve done this billions of times.
Just use your strength to adjust.”
Each tiny fiber woke so slowly,
responded so tentatively,
that I became aware of each and every one —
tense, stiff, just as sleepy as I was —
for the first time since I can remember.
And when they finally moved, turned,
used their strength,
I smiled —
because I knew
that Day 1 would be the first
of many, many more.

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What Am I Thinking?

Can you imagine, I ask,
if they ever asked us what we were thinking —
and we answered with no filter
?
She giggles.
“Right this moment?”she mocks.
Right this moment, I say.

“Just tell me you love me already.”
But don’t, because what the hell would I do with that?
“Because I’m in love with you…”
but I don’t want to be your girlfriend.
“Sleep with me…”
because we’d make really great babies —
“but wait. I don’t want to marry you. I just want great sex.”
Except that I do want to marry you.
“But I won’t again in five minutes.”
Don’t bother me every five minutes with a text.
“But I’d love it if you thought about me all day.”
Did I mention I want to be your girlfriend?
“Because I don’t.”
…but I kind of do.
“What’s hard to understand?”
Nothing!

All at once,
all right this moment.
It’s quite the filter
we’ve built for ourselves.

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Daydreaming Late Thoughts

Heat, real or imagined,
flushes my cheeks.
Every tiny goosebump
magnifies every touch of fabric
from my dress,
and it’s almost unbearable.
Every passing breeze
of cologne
fills my lungs,
and my mouth
is watering and dry
at the same time.
It’s hard to focus
on anything
but this part-physical,
part-psychological chaos.

It’s funny
that it feels almost the same
as when I’m getting sick.

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