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Now I catch myself holding that version back.

Not because I have changed, but because I have learned that people love the polished version of you a lot more than the real one. The real one asks too many questions. The real one talks too much. The real one takes up space.

Now I catch myself holding that version back.

Not because I have changed, but because I have learned that people love the polished version of you a lot more than the real one. The real one asks too many questions. The real one talks too much. The real one takes up space.

I dug our initials in

Before we noticed the triangles around them

The earth is building something sweet for us

Can you feel it?

The cracks for pressure to get through

The paint of the steam

The cleansing reckoning

Are we going to put our feet in it

And finally come clean?

The only word I know is holy

And I hate that

But this is what I was really praying for all those years

This is the only miracle

And I am humbled to perceive it

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You make me so crazy my dear Paloma. Damn those eyes, damn those green eyes that steal my thoughts and my dreams. You and I. Kindred spirit seeking proper peace and peace in the center of the hurricane. Your beautiful face, a poet’s dream and painter’s wish. I painted a million words describing skin of silk and a smile of gold. We have known chaos and we have known the tenderness of…