"You can't take a picture of this. It's already gone."

Monday, December 21, 2015

written a few weeks ago, left alone then

It's getting colder outside and so here's what I'm thinking about.

I'm thinking about how every time I step out of the shower
I can feel my hair against my neck and my back
and it's chilling, I feel like I'll never be warm again.

I'm feeling the impending doom of approaching holidays
that I dread.
I despise the cold and the holidays
I adore the cold and the clarity
but I never said that I wanted to see.

I'm thinking about how every two days
my nails need to be repainted, These are things that I can control
I can see how nice they look or how bad they look
and I can fix it or ignore it as I please.

I can fix my makeup when I want to look nice
and I can let my hair dry so it is curly
and I can wear earrings (or not) and
I can choose whether to pick up the phone and
I can pick my own clothes.

I am thinking about how she feels sleeping next to me
Or how she leans against me when she feels lonely
or how she reads to me. Oh god, she reads to me and
I want to bathe in the way I feel when she does.
I think about how the first time we spent time
she saw me naked in every way
and never faltered never foundered
never treated me as less than, just kept on talking

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