these are

this is me, a few times

 

1.

this is me, sitting in bed. listening to the robins chirp and cats hiss at each other down the hall. hearing soda pop fizz in a can somewhere...where is the damn thing? if it still has fizz, i'd like to drink it...

 

 

2.

this is you, this is me;  wishing we could play like 10 year-old cousins, by the lake, with your black labs. we can talk about where we've been, what we've been doing...who we've been seeing...who we wish we could be seeing. you can say, "oh maria, my little smitten kitten!" and i can laugh and go, "you're a smitten kitten!" then we'll laugh like the crazy hyenas that we actually are. we'll feed your dogs sashimi. you'll get in your car and we'll flash smiles. your dogs will have sand between their toes, i'll have sand in my wallet. you'll head west and i'll head south. it will months before i will be able to see you again. you'll have madonna blasting from your car speakers and i'll have the bite marks you gave me on my right shoulder again.

 

 

3.

this is you, this is me;  recalling a phone conversation, you're playing with toile and silk. you're telling me about an old polish woman, who ate onions like apples, and walked around the hostel naked, cursing in her native language and leaving sweaty footprints on the ground. "you'll see me again, i swear,"   you say, and i'm crying because it's been a little over a year since i've hugged you. we remember the time a cowboy showed his a*s to us and i nicknamed him "peaches."  you ask me, "when men in london f**k, do you you think they ever want to yell yeee-hawwww!!" and we can't stop laughing because lord knows the only one who knows may be the onion-chomping polish woman drinking smithwicks at a pub down the street from your new flat.

 

4.

this is you, this is me; recalling the time we were waiting to cross the street and i grabbed your hand. we raced across the street and you had a fascinated look on your face. we looked at fur draped on walls, we heard a drunk woman lament loudly to her equally obnoxious date. i lost my winter hat, touched with reverence, a louis vuitton suitcase. you never judged me. you told me about a woman who trashed your friend's apartment and left s**t everywhere; you told me about places you used to visit as a child. there isn't enough time to share with me all of the worlds that you know, but for a day, you gave me more than enough. when i'm drunk later, with a strong arm, you pulled me across streets, up flights of stairs. startled at how strong you are, i  was now the one with the fascinated look on my face. 360 degrees, all-encompassing: everything you did, every word you said, every thought you shared...fascinated me

 

 

5.

this is you, this is me; it's been more than fifteen years since we last sat on the same carpet, here we are again. you've got me in a half nelson, you ask in my ear: "ok, girl. how do you get out?" and i laugh and say, "who said that i wanted to?" and we tumble and scream. later on, we don't talk  about the days when i was the anarchist and you were the angry thug, and you were the one who asked me, ages ago,  what i thought of the kids west of the river.  you whisper secrets with a smile you try not to show anyone anymore. (it's the same one i hide, too.) i am merciless; for a moment we're both on our knees. in our play, you slap me and i can't help but laugh. our flippant brutality, our tender animalism, frightens us. we both realize decades can pass, habits will break, but we are who we are and our true nature will always peek through

 

6.

this is me. still sitting in bed. birds are still chirping outside of my house and cats are still hissing outside. I'm still sitting and I'm still thinking. this is me thinking of the ones i miss the most.