justwrite 25 may

unexpectedly cold but she had a dream and I had a sandwich these are sometimes the same thing have you ever had a tripledecker grilled cheese and when he did she made it special just to let you know he had Nantucket lemonade it came in a bottle and this was new jersey it was a different place and also a different time and she always made this for him I didn’t know her name then and I don’t know it now which is fine she left behind white waxy paper folded crinkly into a bag and off we went into nomore there wasn’t much story after that except the long goingalong and come to think of it our story was very short in the real sense the present tense just four months and a swish toward the elsewhere and sometimes I wonder when that happened or who played the guitar that way who sang songs in that voice and loved REM and MTX and what’s more knew who they were magnetic poetry on the ceiling and the feeling that this was all new because it was there were rice krispie treats and furry happy monsters feeling glad a crocheted afghan and no roommate a tie and sneakers this was along around a while ago short hair and painted nails the feeling that the university is the universe and we are all studying philosophy I made plato out of playdoh and read at open mic nights but not too many I had plaid pants and a dress that moved when I stood still I was the queen of a cafeteria dreaming of what a mongoose might say if he had the chance but this was a dance with forgotten steps and if he were to call and ask how I remember I would say because yes you do too and there are angles and tries and can’ts along the way too many spaces to replace with sense I can’t even mention all of them some varied pains some friends remaindered out of the way a picture frame on a bedside table turned face down at an inopportune moment we choose our pieces and collage them as we will there are many things I miss about that time and many people I wish I held closer but how can we move when we grab too tight we crush ourselves in tiny rooms filled with balloons the light brightness of those we love of those we want beside us those we want to reach out and touch in the dark and if I had a stamp I would send him a letter and he would send me an address and someone would tell me what to say and how not to stay in one place and how this movingforward sometimes brings you back you’d keep track of all the brokenheart pieces a catch and release program rebuilding it’s the kind of art you look at and say I could do that but you couldn’t and you wouldn’t this isn’t your frame any more but maybe it’s a door and not just a window