Dexterous, dirty hands of color and class: lead me in dangerous directions.

Thin eyes: widen by me and the inhalation of side-street dreams. 

Thick body: release the masochist of memories that once chiseled your frame and allow me to pulsate new perspectives. 

Pieces of you enter through pieces of me and slip on a new dream.



A long snake of overwhelming sadness slips up my lungs and into my throat when I think of losing you. I bite it and while it falls, it takes my heart into my stomach and I eat it whole. I use my memories to survive. 

Your smile like a snapshot,

Your laugh still swims in my head.

Your hugs still linger on my shoulders,

Your positive words reverberate in my quivering jaw.

I look for you in quiet moments but remember you most in busier times.

Your memory doesn’t satisfy our loss. It was too perfect. Too right. Everything about your being was beautiful. Unfortunately your body rejected your brain. Turned on itself and stole your smile – stole your laugh – returned your body to the earth instead of allowing it your future. How selfish I am to want to feel happiness in my heart again while yours has stopped completely.