I passed your house
Maybe five years ago that is where you would be
Maybe if it was more years back before that
I was there when we ate pizza with too much cheese
We missed the bus and the next one
We slept in plastic seats and my phone died
Which meant we were cut off from the world
It was foreshadowing how the rest of the year would be
Spinning the wheel only to land on chaos
What a time that was
I was breathing shallow
I’m out of albuterol
It’s impossible to breathe when you’re anxious
and have a knife in your back pressed too deep
The word betrayal is carved into its sheath
Inhaling lavender and burned oats on the breeze
Is that what soap you used
It reminded me of a breakfast cookie
Looking at the border context
is an impactful factor to gain compassion and
authenticity in the process of change
I’m leaving here in a few days
Violins are playing in my ears
I’m recording this into my memory bank
because you’re too significant to not keep
We are wearing scarves to keep warm
from the snow
But the truth is my heart was beating fast
because of you
My body temperature rose
Gloved and hand in hand
You were wondering if it will ever quit snowing
We didn’t think so, maybe someday
Record stores and thrifting
I think your gentle nature and wide smile
is something my eyes have been missing
We’re taking bong rips in your back yard
Wait, maybe it was your patio
I was more mesmerized about
what it would look like to try
(You didn’t think so, maybe someday)
Quite frankly I’m dazzled by the way
morning light catches your eyes
I’m fearless but not brave enough to
say what I wanted to anyway
(I didn’t think so, maybe someday)
I’m sitting inside a queer coffee shop/record store waiting for my two coworkers to show up so we can talk about how to work around our boss.
I’ve been here once before. They play good music and always remember your drink. I’ve been in a toxic work environment once before. Bureaucracy. Contracts. Hierarchy telling marginalized people to use the services created by them that they deem worthy to work. Gatekeeping.
I miss making coffee. There was a science to it. Almost dancing or performing. Twists and turns. Sliding and squatting. People and their stories. I still see my regulars in the community. I like the connection and I am grateful.