This one is about friends. I just returned from Colorado. New York, loud and assaulting, pregnant with forever possibility has been waiting for me. I return and it is as if I return to a vast wave. The ocean has been waiting for me, crashing in periodic frenzy.
"Where have you been?" it demands, but does not wait for my answer. Instead, it rushes on showing me all of the things I had better do now so not to lose another opportunity. That is the problem. So much to do - one thing after another and if I don't get them all done right now then they will fade away forever (like waves).
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My heart wanders back to Colorado. Back to a city full of people I love so much I could take my skin off and offer it as feety pajamas to these people if they were cold before bed.
On a walk with Twinkle I asked her, "If you could give the moon anything, what would it be?"
She said she wanted some time to think about it.
I continued to ponder the question. It changed shape.
If I could give my life so that the moon would continue to glow for all the people that I love, would I do it?
Yes.
And I am the luckiest person in the world to know such a truth. Yes I would.
Because…
Doober: You smell like bread. Wonder reaches back into your eyes as far back as I can see. The gentle quiet with which you meet the world is peculiar and good. I don't always understand you because maybe I'm still afraid to understand that part of myself. I can't help but want to find a place inside you and listen forever to your warm stories.
Twinkle: Your love is so big. I have to lie down for a moment before I can even write another word. (I often start to cry when I think about you...in a good way...you know that.) Okay, I'm back. The kindness that extends from your proud chest - broad and gentle and French-lace sweet. When I'm with you it is like touching a piece of my spirit, beyond this body, healing the world with immensity of heart and a fiery urge to keep learning.
Fangflower: There is hard work that goes into your love. Amazing consideration. The care and permission to celebrate darkness. Creepy puppets, avatars of our complicated gloom. Thank you for the celebration of the depth that colors us all, the sadness and insecurity that wobbles back and forth in the human condition. How lucky to be privy to the shadows that dance in your heart and, through them, become familiar with our own.
Jupp: Darling and stubborn. Focused on the perfection of concepts and revealing the truth of discourse. You may appear to have strong ideas, but the care with which you kiss your wife and the constant consideration for others show a different side. I see, deep down, your Southern ease and deep contentment.
Moonalise: I have loved you for a while. The sweet pain around your heart fuels your beauty and pulls from you pieces of art that would otherwise be impossible without the longing. Your dark eyes and elegant lips disarm even the most heavily protected. The world's sacred magic becomes visible in your presence. Circles upon circles, offerings to the satellite.
Wheatabix: Investigator of truth. Queen of self pressure. A kaleidoscope of emotion and intrigue, curiosity and love. I love your commitment to goodness, to a relentless understanding of right and wrong. I love watching your understanding crack when examples fall outside of given equations. Kindred lover of heartache.
Sprixty: Fierce woman. Dying to be good. Dying to give herself so fully to something. Your fairy spirit, infused with warrior strength. This is what you are. This is who you are. This is your power. Your commitment to women, to growth, to understanding. Thank you for your wildness.
Gogalseed: You stormcloud into spaces, marching, head-forward with (often) frustrated intent. You wear ambition and boyishness just like the super heros on your tee-shirts. You don't give up. You are as strong as they come, though you want only to be taken care of. I love your desire, your persistence, your horn-blowin' funk.
Krem: I know you only through eyes which have seen you since you were a boy and played subtly with flirtation. Your soft laugh and the brilliant ribbons of logic you cast upon ridiculous ideas, adorn the absurdity of that small town with refreshing rationality.
Tigglysprocket: You come into the room and hug everyone. Your face shines, forever smiling, even in moments of confusion, which is when I take greatest comfort in your pleased expression. The banter is delightful. The humility is fresh air. You allow everyone around you to be exactly who they are.
The Stranger: The kind swagger that moves between a neon ballcap and pristine cowboy boots was engineered perfectly for my little body to sneak in and hug you. Voices, impressions, exclamations spill out of you with a perfect weirdness as rare and special as forest truffles. There is a sadness in your eyes that plants flowers in my chest. Here, a rose for you.
Circlemuff: Our worlds are very different, our respective languages have developed via twin routes of philosophy and the need for felt-helpfulness. It stings a little when you see too much of me, so I enjoy another martini and relax into the exposure. I love holding your hand and watching you watch. Listening to the stories of your family, your tragedies, your busy-ness and success...these are all excuses to enjoy the ache we share. To rest in the company of mutual pain and pleasure.
Bodantodanto: The moon face and protective weight of a million hugs greets a sweetheart girl. You enter a space with such energy it is as if the air around you has transformed itself into a master of ceremony, proudly announcing your arrival. Some might say "on his sleeve," but I know the truth. Somehow you have figured out how to stretch your heart, crawling inside and starbursting so that now you wear it all over your body.
Curleefofee: I see you most clearly in the bees. And the animals you fashion from clay and seashell prints. I see you in the soft edges of a felted purse and the wispy flowers on one of your hats. I taste you when I wander through your garden in spring, admiring allium flowers and savoring the pungency in those tiny, purple blossoms. Delicate and strong like that.
Elegantra: At the moment our food arrives, you rub your hands together and laugh guttural in anticipation. You give so much. You care so much. And beneath your lovely face - similar to my own - you celebrate a bitch that sings medicine for the world. Baby I was born to run… and I'll run back to you as soon as I can.
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