Chulahoma is on the speakers, spraying funky nonchalance all over the floor. I tuck my hair behind my ear and fill the French press to the old level, about half way. Or is it a third? It’s been so long. Theres a low ache in a my back that keeps me here, in the rain, in the morning. I stand in the bathroom bare foot and put on eyeliner. I’m still in my underwear and a hoodie. Hood up. All my plans for today have unraveled. I’m downloading Dream of Blue Turtles.
Okay. Change the floor. Don’t speak english.. See from the eyes in my belly, the fingertips in my toes and at the broken ends of my hair, picking up static like tumbled pebbles in the river spilling messages. You know you have the luxury of sitting back and smiling but I still need to claw and break things. I need to see what I miss once it’s all over the floor in shocked little pieces. I need mistakes to put their hands to my back, palms flush, and push with so little pressure I might miss it if I breath.
Coffee finds me in the morning. Loneliness finds me in the evening.
Theres nothing here, nothing here, no where I want to go with this. I just want to u-turn back to the happy place. Whrere all the bowls are hand made ceramic, all different colors with signatures on the bottom.
Where I walk barefoot on the wood floor and run my fingers over the dark stained wood walls and wood railings and touch my baby’s white cloud cheek. I put her on my back and we walk together, all three of us, picking olives and spitting them back out because of course you have to cure them first but we didn’t’ know that.
Walking walking past castles and over grassy hills and into restaurants with fountains in the middle and ivy hanging from the ceiling with waiters that take my coat and I don’t’ even need a coat because we’re in Spain remember and its never cold and we’re always kissing and my teeth get whiter to reflect my growing happiness.
You love me so hard and so long you’re sweetness gets into my nose like coke and drips down my throat and warms me from the inside and you whisper in my ear with languages I don’t understand just to tease me and we’re in a field of sunflowers leaning up against a little stone building that’s locked but the stone warms our backs and we stare into the nine thirty sun and eat strawberries and smear mali into our cheeks and you tuck jasmine into my hair because you say it does something for you but u don’t say what.
We have to go back to our lives I say, but your eyes stop me mid sentence and I realize you’re right. I blow up the pictures and you make wooden frames that hang on the walls of our wooden house and when all the candles are lit they almost look like movies so we crawl back inside of them and reach for fireworks and low tides and seashells.
You know me inside out like laundry, and more babies brew in your chest. Your wings are so big we could go forever and never come down, tom petty was wrong you say, there’s no rules here only the trust in the black of our eyes.