Saturday, September 6, 2014

if you handed me the world

when she hands me the world 
i ask for it black, 
just cool enough to sip 
from a red tin cup
beneath a late afternoon sundown. 
when i hand she the world, 
she asks for it stirred
with sugar and soy milk
over ice cubes, 
beside me and that same sundown.


one could spend his entire life 
chasing after places to see and be; 
so, she made me swear we’d spend our days
making the places we already were 
something worth seeing and being; 

(and someday,
the adventurers 
searching for the seven wonders of my 26th summer,
will find their guidebooks dead-ending  
beneath the hummingbirds of the los angeles river,
at the private delray beaches belonging to the owners of half-built condominiums, 
along the 2 am side-streets of southern boulevard,
beside the courtyard of a north palm beach panera bread, 
on the benches of a cafe and used bookstore in jacksonville, 
under the canopy of a brewery within the industrial district of suburbia orlando, 
in a hammock).  

and on the days you wonder,
how you'll ever cross 
from the failure you find yourself today 
to the person you've always hoped you might become; 
where the skies 
exchange there faded grays 
for the brightness you remember on those nights you used you dream;
she enters,  
like a bridge you never knew was constructible
like electric light, 
like flight, 
like impossible unfolding before your eyes, 
with body, hands, 
and a face like the winter constellations, 
and in an instant, 
the world is at your fingertips, 
like a story that wouldn’t let you blink even if you tried;
like paper airplanes 
and the speechless on your tongue, 
like the brightness in her lips, 
as they form i love you 
at last;
my world,   
is where she is, 
those sunsets -
really are the most colorful; 
those drives 
really are worth the miles; 
those moons, those 
cups of coffee, 
really are full, 
with the kinda full worth drinking fully;
and i am hers to the dregs.  


if you handed me the world, 
it'd be five fragile fingers 
and her head on my shoulder, 
north los angeles

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