March 23, 2010 3:36 PM
I am laying underwater in a warm spot for days or so it seems
and all the people I’ve been been seeing I can’t quite remember what they’ve said
I dream about making porridge with vinegar and boiling eggs for people who never stayed the night
I wash the dishes in the morning and make coffee strong enough to make you stand
and face whatever it is you couldn’t sleep about last night
I tossed and turned and watched your eyelids in the dark; can you hear me?
I smile at the cat sleeping on your legs and want to tell you all of the things that I’m worried about, my anxiety making the inside of my mouth like a sandy beach in the middle of summer and my heart feel like an old shoe falling to the river’s bottom.
After I walked you to work today I biked home with my eyes closed; peddling slowly down 19th avenue, gazing up to watch rocks fall into dust, eclipsing the sun.
I am at home but don’t want to be; I’m home.
