new york, i love you

i feel like an imposter in my new home,
savoring someone else’s keys
sauntering on unfamiliar pavement
in an unaffordable neighborhood
watching them film law & order outside my door
like i’m living another life,
one i’d dreamed, of course,
but still, like i’m alice through the looking glass
i’ll love it here, but i miss my harlem,
my bodega calls
the reggaeton and yells and
feeling like i belong
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vagabond

i hate that i’m obsessed with gypsy
i can’t stop watching it and thinking
was this you? were you her—
short of changing your name?
she’s insidious and sneaky and relentless
and i get it.
i get it in a way so familiar and so
unreal like it was yesterday
the lies that come so naturally, so fluid and serene.
was it easy for you?

intentional

my nephew’s favorite animal
(as much as one can have at 18 months)
is a giraffe.

I never noticed how wonderful they are:
regal bows,
dancer-sturdy legs that support their
elegant audrey hepburn necks,
their slow, precise movements.
they survey everything and nothing,
hindered by their long-limbed life.

It’s all just alliteration and irony.

introvert

Sometimes, I want to be a submarine
lay low, thrive in an underwater haze;
undulate with the corral and weeds;
breaking darkness and subduing silence.

friends and lovers come and go
above me, conversations drift from dream to dream,
while I stay below
heavy and forgotten
tintinnabulation forces me further into a sunken shell
and I’m stuck between my preservation
and your presence.

I’m heavy in my needs,
waiting, weighted and sure of my surroundings
I shift, sift alone with my thoughts, comforted by depth.

upon rising
my hardened exterior basks
in gratuitous and insincere sunshine

reading rilke

yesterday, I found myself immersed
in his thoughts, his lilt, his words:
“dream-inhabited eyes”

A perfect, gorgeous, heavy word
that stung my heart with purpose.
For now I live in my head
and simply breathe from my heart.

but my dreams, my love, they live
behind my lids, sifting near the surface—
undulating ‘neath pupils and neurons,
I dream your face into existence,
your eyes, too. your precious lashes
that caress your soul and I wake to find it all
disappear.

Blinking, dismayed, I close them again,
hoping to find you again in a world
that now only exists in dreams,
in minds, we wait.