Together we fill gaps.

Remember that time
we watched all the Rocky movies?

"Yo Adrian."

I was spread out
on your living room floor.
The carpet making impressions on my skin.

Surrounded by outdated knick-knacks,
you the youngest in the family.

I pretended like I was asleep.
Wondering what you would do.

Eyes shut, ears open.

Knowing that you would have to wake me,
to drive me home.
My favorite part of the night.

Driving home
on the road my grandma lives on.

Dreaming of meat lockers
and holding hands,
my feet propped on your dashboard.

swensons

greasy food
eaten far too late at night

purple
grape milkshake
tops off the evening meal

it's like old times
i only met you recently,
but it seems like years before.

crammed
side by side in the backseat
no room for elbows
except in ribcages

exhilarated
getting caught would be bad
very bad
and for the price of a double cheeseburger
all the way

songs and places

old songs play on repeat,
bluegrass lyrics and hazy days of sunlight
eyes close; crafting a scene
painting it out, stroke by stroke

stretching across the canvas
to fill in the hillside
corn stalks emerge
timidly, forcefully.

light courses
tumbling down, and down
racing to illuminate

green
blue, and golden. deep, dark earthy browns.
and more green.
always green.

pushed into the corner
a promise of night
wide open fields
and stars that crease the sky.
filling empty spaces.

eyes open.
confused, misplaced.
roads pave the way
full of cracks and sticky black tar.

restless.

sleepless.

feeling nostalgic for the sunlight,
the way it catches any object ablaze.
making normal,
extraordinary.

unsteady with the night,
space pushing infinity

too much space.

looking for a chance
to go west,
to cup the ocean between my hands.
letting it trickle through.

deep blazes of sunlight
breaking across the water.
a breeze,
holding me upright.

back east,
the night grows larger.
looming and vast.

falling asleep on couches

falling asleep on couches
comfortable enough to never leave

eyes kept closed by a new hat pulled down to the brim
green flannel is my blanket

dreaming of places to travel to
and places I've come from

dreaming to stay put
wanting to let that be

cooled by a swirling fan overhead
lulled by the sound of a familiar tv

travels

no seat belts
only helmets
locking not the body
but the mind inside
to wander
thoughts of leaping off
to join the sky
cresting over the tallest asphalt peak
careening down curves
the landscape expresses itself
in deep shadows of greens
whispering
echoes through the roar of the wind
beckoning
to keep going
to abandon the helmet
releasing the culmination
of nineteen years
shamelessly into the world

a ride

wildflowers
inhaling the exhaust on the side of the road
coughing out beautiful blooms
for the passerby

crowding around a ragged trunk
pushing out the side of a hill
grasping
with thick deep roots

tiny pebbles lay prostrate
cowering under the guardrails
bowing beneath the weight
of the life teeming
surreptitiously sprouting
their own small gardens of weeds

the open sky breathes down
causing ripples on the land
deep valleys
cupping the sunlight

reflecting back onto already sun-soaked golden corn
waving idly
gazing nonchalantly at the wilderness
and uncontrollable
growths of color

still forming miniature skylines
tall white observation decks
and squat purple buildings
skyscraper stalks in between

What summer feels like.

The crowd at Rita's has changed, once again.
I still go to pick up my gelati
(not quite gelato)
Amazed to see the immaturity of the current crowd.
The chunks of real cherries in a pond of cherry flavor.

Although, I suppose the last time I was there,
we salsa danced.
Public disruption in our own right.
Old friend, old times.

It's like these chairs,
how I sat in the same one last year,
Summertime. This time of year.

I was waiting for you to come say goodbye
before you left the country.
We sat, chatted.
I thought we had the world ahead of us.

Pennsylvania lit up the night
first, with lightning bugs
Fireflies, then a proud array of stars.

The next night I did more of the same
reading 17 magazine and painting my nails.
The brightest color I could find.

I can hear my family playing badminton in the front yard now.
As always, it's chaos.
Why is my brother so tall?
Our numbers never stay stable anymore.

Life feels so comfortable
worn like a familiar sweater.
Waiting for the company of friends to go for gelato.