I'm undone by the words I receive,
by the photos, by the music,
by the scraps of paper
with ink and coffee stains.

This is for you...

You, lost right now in the world. I've listened to and felt your heartbeat. I know your hands, your eyes and your laugh. We've watched the sky together--spinning as we lay, still as a breath held, on wet grass. Each of us has, in our own space, a glimpse of the world through the other's eyes. I wish that we spoke more often. I think so often of you. I miss you.

You, more in love with this earth than anyone I've ever known. You've warmed my heart in a way that I will never be able to explain. 'Turtles', you told me, 'already know about souls. It's our cortex that makes us forget.'

You, who took a few of these words for yourself. These are all yours--'you are as orange as a congeleen afro curled around the bony edges of a silver spoon expressing its innermost desires for a lime-based detergent.'. Mm-hm, yes. I would also like to say, here and now...
I'm quite sure that the bingo was rigged.
(silly doll, you make the tiniest snores)

You, fed and at the same time, left starved by your dreams. There is a world--an entire world swirling about you. All you have to do is reach out. Reach out and grab it. It's yours for the taking. This much, I promise. Think today and breathe--really feel the air filling your lungs and then leaving, again, to become part of the world around you. Stare into the sun until your eyes water and think of the last time you cried. Watch ants march or lizards run and feel like a giant. Wish on a star and feel small. Remember that I think of you.

You, the smile bringer. There is magic in the very beat of your heart, I'm sure. Your words have meant so much to me for so long and I don't even know that I've ever told you this.

You, who can brighten a day with just a few words. You called me a fiend--accused me of honeytalk. I get it from you, silly thing. Poetry is contagious.

You, like me--blessed and cursed...
fighting with demons and dancing with stars.
You can create such magic with only the tiniest bit of inspiration.

You, whose thoughts arrive in heavy black lines that connect in just the right places to become letters which are assembled in just the right way to form words...
dashed down so quickly that there wasn't time for the ink to dry. I've always been amazed that the smears of ink all run in different directions--the equivalent, I'd like to think, of a wandering thought. You, whose emotions arrive in swirls of color. You may think that I've forgotten you. I haven't.

You, living in a corner of the world that I occupied a bit of 10 years ago. I used a bobby pin to leave my mark ( * ) in the wet cement shaded by my favorite rooftop. I wish I could remember that intersection. I wish more that I could remember the feel of your hands in mine.

You, my wishing star...
I sent you treasures that never arrived. I wanted you to have a piece of my world always. Among the contents of a parcel lost somewhere in this world are:
-a lemon seed in a tiny sterling box
(i removed the neclace that came with it
because only ribbon seemed right for you.
i found just the right shade of pink
but forgot to enclose it.)
-a copy of Alice in Wonderland
(it seemed so perfect to find a copy small enough
to fit in any purse and most pockets.)
-a simple card with only one word on the outside


(this is the reminder i give you
this is the reminder i give myself)

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