Crisis

“In the space of one heartbeat to another I loved you and I was lost to you”
― Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless

“Un dragón al que se le ve el final de la cola no es un dragón demasiado peligroso, y un tren de diez vagones puede pasarte por encima pero no puede estar pasándote por encima toda la vida.”
― Ray Loriga

“Go to other countries. Not a typical backpacking tour. Planned tour
means you will hang with Americans on bikes and flirt with drunk
Germans and someone will steal your Levi’s in the hostel and a guy
from Poland will sock you in the face while bad techno plays
everywhere and you will learn nothing except that your face hurts and
not everyone showers. Get into other cultures and talk politics and
love. Meeting other people is the only way to know if you believe what
you believe cause it’s been handed to you, or if it really rings true
in your heart.

Getting lost should be seen as a sweet chance to be found.

Remember, you belong everywhere.”
― Derrick Brown

“Because I live in south Florida I store cans of black beans and gallons
of water in my closet in preparation for hurricane season.
I throw a hurricane party in January. You’re my only guest.
We play Marco Polo in bed. The sheets are wet like the roof caved in.
There’s a million of me in you. You try to count me as I taste the sweat
on the back of your neck. I call you Sexy Sexy, and we do everything twice.
After, still sweating, we drink Crystal Light out of plastic water bottles.
We discuss the pros and cons of vasectomies. It’s not invasive you say.
I wrap the bedsheet around my waist. Minor surgery you say.
You slur the word surgery, like it’s a garnish on a dish you just prepared.
I eat your hair until you agree to no longer talk about vasectomies.
We agree to have children someday, and that they will be beautiful even if they’re not.
As I watch your eyes grow heavy like soggy clothes, I tell you When I grow up
I’m going to be a famous writer. When I’m famous I’ll sign autographs
on Etch-A-Sketches. I’ll write poems about writing other poems,
so other poets will get me. You open your eyes long enough to tell me
that when you grow up, you’re going to be a steamboat operator.
Your pores can never be too clean you say.
I say I like your pores just fine. I say Your pores are tops.
I kiss you with my whole mouth, and you fall asleep next to my molars.
In the morning, we eat french toast with powdered sugar. I wear the sugar
like a mustache. You wear earmuffs and pretend we’re in a silent movie.
I mouth Olive juice, but I really do love you.
This is an awesome hurricane party you say, but it comes out as a yell
because you can’t gauge your own volume with the earmuffs on.
You yell I want to make something cute with you.
I say Let me kiss the insides of your arms.
You have no idea what I just said, but you like the way I smile.”
― Gregory Sherl