thoughts (fragments)

(1)
i represent the voice of reason. the good advice of ex-girlfriends with good intentions; and the mothers that stayed up at night hoping you would sort it out. i represent sunrise and sunset- the reconstruction of opportunity. i represent the nearness of memory (and its distance). i am the spirit of cold noses as you walk through streets in winter. i do not wear leather shoes or scarves. i represent the voice of madness. the union of unplayed musical instruments. i am the pause button. if you spell me out you get _r e s e t_. i do not sparkle in the sun or threaten in the evening. if you hug someone you can feel me. you can meet me when you sense the feel of your heartbeat inside your own body. i like clouds, i recommend you look at them more often. i represent the dreams your father had of you before you were born, when you were his princess and his king. i represent the potential energy of unopened books in libraries. i represent the sweat of dancing. i represent the shaking and chilling before you take your anxiety medication and fall asleep. i represent the life we never knew we always had. i am the spirit of forgivness. i like to hear people singing. i am the instruction manual you always wished someone had handed out at the beginning. i am the phrase you'll never forget. i am in every first-kiss that matters, and every goodbye hug that breaks a heart. i represent the heave of breasts. if you listen to me you'll ignore the shaky ground. you'll forget the missing letters. i represent the end credits of fate. i always thought you were awesome. we all do.


(2)
she leans on the coffee machine. i know she's leaving in 8 days, i really should have done this long ago. her green eyes are softer on me tonight. she's usually more challenging, tonight she smiles softly. she's just tired. as long as i keep looking at her face i can't stop. i'm confused by it. her hair alone is more miraculous than Moses. the line of patrons grows behind me but i ignore it. i like our universe better. she does too. are you gonna get me a coffee or what?
- what do you want?
- that's a long-answer question.
- have all night.
- let's start with stability then.
[behind me someone sighs and says oh god, give me a break]

the next day my therapist tells me: you might be addicted to connection.
- is that a problem?
- yeah. it means something.
- everything means something.
- this means you're lacking something.
- i'm lacking a lot of things.
- i agree. so you are addicted to connection?
- i am a connection-whore, i sniff the sand off rocks and smoke the air of coffee-shops for it.
[she stares]


(3)
for a moment i think maybe history has taken off running without me again. damn. i scratch my head. she'll be back i decide. she always is. for some reason that comforts me today.