moved blogs!!

blue denim against red  velvet, blue lips against cheek-y  grin & I can’t help but wonder if your eyes are too bright. my theatre seats have never felt  this cold before.  

I don’t recognize  your voice in my ears, or  maybe it’s just been too long  & too quiet. you want to leave  this place for the ocean  three continents  down & I don’t blame you.

the tip of your tongue  is familiar, but sometimes  I think it tastes too much like salt  water. sometimes I get scared  of you drowning  alone. 

the highlights in your hair half-glow with morning light & I imagine  drawing lines on your skin connecting freckle to freckle, well-known  constellations blooming beneath your eyes.  

(maybe then the dark circles, dark  bruises could hurt less)

there is a small trio of stars, in the hollow between your collarbones. a timid triangle. I imagine it is where you hide  all your deepest secrets &  all your loveliest fears. 

I imagine it is where you hurt  the least.

the truth is, there are a lot of things that hurt me but I want to write about more than that. I want to write about more than just hurt, more than the jitters I call nervousness because the word anxiety makes me freeze. more than the collapse of stars. the inward implosions that push me back into bed, to lie down and re-learn how to breathe because the word depression makes me weep.

today I am avoiding these terms out of fear, but tomorrow I want to avoid them because they are no longer there. 

instead I wish someone would come down and fill my head with delicate ideas. an angel could help me write about love bathed in moonlight, comfort in someone else’s hands, the patterns your fingertips make in my sleep. 

PURPLE YAMS