For *those that have just lost their keys *those that are well-versed *inebriated ones *wanderers *mermaids *those that belong elsewhere *whippersnappers *marvelous ones *those that are not included in this classification *those that flutter because the moment is fleeting *boundless ones *those colored with slippery fingerpaint *others *those that resemble someone I know from a distance

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Misadventures with Little Cricket in LA

a sign turned around backwards
the other side of magic, a blankness
a splinter in my heel and an overflowing toilet
the beginning of 150 hours of confusion, but i didn't know it yet

unrelenting pain and the constancy of painkillers
no reaction to my touch
no light in his eyes
light in his eyes i couldn't reach
drinks i couldn't afford
him reading the darkness in my eyes
an open wound of mystery

a three hour black-out in the city
despair while dancing to violins by candlelight
giving up
a conversation erasing a stranger
an unexpected question
finally getting really fucking high
cautious optimism despite all evidence to the contrary

meditating in the hollywood hills
looking for a labyrinth and finding his childhood church next door
a moment with the divine in the oldest part of LA
the unknown closing of his favorite japanese restaurant
the making of plans
not quite being able to let go and dance
never having any idea what he was thinking or feeling
the unmaking of plans
knowing the final nail in the coffin was coming

the disappearance of the one thing i really wanted
giving up
deciding to go "home"
no flights out
2 o'clock and the rental car agency closed at noon
trapped in LA with a fucking stranger in the decrepit house of his godmother
chain-smoking outside a shopping mall
wondering if i was going to have a psychotic break
my credit card being turned down
him buying me a book about time travel
almost being hypnotized by the power of my dreams
answering imaginary interview questions
realizing he was a gambler with a heart of gold
realizing i had taught a gambler with a heart of gold how to play poker
recognizing the storm of optimism we'd been caught in
finally beginning to see him
the beginning of friendship
the reappearance of certainty
not wanting to be seen
wanting to be near him
never knowing which one of us was a kaleidoscope

alone in LA
falling in love with a pair of sphinxes
taking pictures of the shadows of art
dancing by myself in the living room
a drunk dial filled with laughter
him returning to me
openness and playfulness and sensuality
how things were supposed to be
an unripe avocado, a broken fence, and spilled wine
"don't worry, it's just a symbol"
never knowing if we actually kissed
not being able to see him see me
shit i didn't want to be reminded of
a doorknob falling apart in my hand
a roller-coaster in a house of mirrors

waking up and hating myself
going the fuck back to sleep
knowing what he was feeling by the music he was playing
feeling like he was my husband
marked by sadness
waving good-bye on opposite sides of airport security
crying while the plane took off
crying while the plane landed
a 9 month relationship poured into 6 days

choosing love over fear and walking into the heart of an enigma

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