God forbid some shadow

God Forbid Some Shadow

FADE IN: neighbors staring into the sky.

…And, and I hate to be the bad guy [he leans in] but which neighbor has the brightest outside light? I mean. Come on! It’s brighter than a reading lamp. I told the girls, you know, they’re really sweet but they forget to turn it off all the fuckin’ time. They have guests over tonight so I’ll have to wait. But, man-oh-man. I wanna sleep, you know.
When I moved here 20 years ago, there was darkness. The ol’ school kind. The stars were everywhere, you could see the stars from the ocean. It was beautiful. Now with the whole technology thing, it’s like everybody wants light, God forbid some shadow. There are only 2 spots at the beach that stay dark if you want some star gazing: on the left after the parking lot and the Whaler where the pathway stops; and on the right, at the second parking lot near 23rd. Das it.
It’s slim pickin’s now. Those are my hiding spots.

He looks up.

Yeah…I miss staring into the night.

They look up.

You know, I put a chair in the heart of my garden just for star gazing. Its beautiful. It’s been a while since I’ve sat there but das cuz when’s the last time you’ve seen stars?

We look up again.

I’m sure Orion is somewhere up there.

FADE OUT.

it’s been a year…

How time flies…
Last year we had an extraordinary, out of the ordinary, holiday season. Check it out below:

home for the holidays

No tree.
No gifts.
No family.
No friends.
No travel.
No holiday food.
No other homes.
No parties.
No guests.
Lots of invitations.

This year we are at home.
This year we welcome a new member to the family so simplicity is key.
This year things are unconventional.

Am I sad? Probably not.
Am I missed? Probably not.
Am I forgotten? Probably not.

Continue reading “it’s been a year…”

’til you’re ready

'til you're ready

I thought I was over it.
It’s been years.
But, it’s not like it’s been years and I didn’t do shit about it.
No, I processed.
I grieved, lost my way, found the map and got back on the path.
(like a machine?)

I don’t want to cry, I tell her.
Like she’s expecting me to.
“That’s ok! You don’t have to. It’ll find its way up.”
(my jaw tightens)

No, but that’s the thing.
This ain’t my first time at the rodeo.
I’ve balled, girl.
Slobbered, face distorted and all kinds of ugly.
(I’m getting tired)

Continue reading “’til you’re ready”

a curse (not really)

a curse (not really)

Dreamy.
I love you oceans.
She says, not just to me.

It’s hard to hear from her.
It’s like the sting from rubbing alcohol.
Why didn’t I matter?
No return phone call.
No response
No reaction.

Silence.
The worst punishment.
Punishable by death.
And I’m in the chair.

Talented, skinny, sexy, confident, fun, adventurous, a killer IG account.
I know, superficial, but JesusChrist does that count in my brain.
Pride envelopes me.
Fuck you, on heated lips, on repeat.
Thick black ash in my heart.

A curse.

No!
Those things work.
Stop that.
Don’t be a child.

A curse.

I mean it!
God.
What is this, medieval times?

A curse?

Not really.
More like blessings beyond reach, an avalanche.
I do.
I wish you,
the best.
Cuz you’re fuckin’ talented and I love you.
I love you.

a month since

Liza Fernandez

A month since my birthday.
The birth of this body, this time, this heart, this mind.
A time to celebrate.
A time to reflect.
A time for silliness.

Fingers, toes, legs, arms, all in place.
Skin taut and elastic (for now).
Heart wide open.
Mind even more expansive than yesterday.
Curiosity killed the cat, not quite yet.

Here’s to failing.
And failing again.
And failing one more time.

Continue reading “a month since”

holding

holding

I hold a cup of black tea in a Starbucks vintage mug; the tea is not their’s and tastes way better. There’s a chip on the cup. I should dispose of it but I chose not to.

I’m feeling a joyful glee in my heart cuz my partner returns home tomorrow. How four weeks has fast forward and slowed down all at once. I recall his warm soft lips and how they just fit mine.

I sit still as the sun beams down on my skin. It’s warm with a cool breeze reminding us winter is around the corner. The critical mind tells me to pull away (wrinkles, remember), but I don’t. Fly kisses from the sun reach the smile spreading across my cheeks.

I’m wondering if this is what they mean by “bliss”. This moment. On my own.
That hop-skip-and-a-jump feeling, that “skip to my lou my darling” pep to the step.
I try not to choke it; surrendering is a joy ride.

I sip.
Eyes closed.
Fly kisses to the sun and back.
Smiling.