Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Letter to the Unknown, or: that the sun will bea*m tomorrow

I've been framing a lot of my life in terms of
The Last Year of
Where It All Started of
When I Met Him

it happened with the sudden sweetness of spring
and the promise of summer with
the adolescent abandon 
of the end of the school
and not seeing a reason not to

if I could have
I would have lived ten thousand years
within a few hot hours of July
the bugs clouding and buzzing
the love growing longer with sweat
had not the Earth kept spinning

I went to Argentina
where it was winter
and whose spring that came in September
was none so full of promise
but rather of endings of
finishing not where we had started of
how have I got here

in October came
the political decision to start wearing dresses

in November I
started wearing dresses

you could not sit still and not sweat
in December
in Argentina
my family came
and held me
I had to re-meet them
sort of
that's what happens
sort of
when you change your name and pronouns
you can not sit still and not sweat
when you change your name and pronouns

Polar Vortex
learning how to be

the next few months blended and stirred
February to March to April to May
they were replete with hardness and questions
and good things too yes of course
like a sort of steadily warmer thermometer
and plays and friends and family and love
and dresses yes
and dresses
but I remember the hardness and questions

in June
of this year
I was sitting in a coffeeshop late at night writing a paper
and He was there
and we had been friends for some time already
have been
but there was a moment
in the coffeeshop
as I watched Him walk away
that I honestly didn't feel the reel of
last year's June
although I am lonely
although I stay up nights wishing for things that are not
although the last memories I have of things that were are
all memories of Him
all of that
I can honestly say
I did not feel the reel of
last year's June

in two weeks it will be July

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