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every day my understudy sits up in my bed and walks across the carpet, rehearsing her lines. she slips into green jeans and walks across the hall looking for something to live for. some days it takes twenty minutes to stand up, and on those days, my understudy makes up her face. she outlines her eyes in black, pretty girl war paint. my understudy walks across college campuses and listens to the songs that direct the dances she will do that day. she’ll smile at professors, because she knows that somewhere deep inside, we truly love this moment, these books and words that we try to read, that my understudy pretends to have studied. my understudy smiles at my rapist when he sits next to me and rubs my knee, telling me it’s my fault we aren’t happy, that we are so very hipster beautiful together, that they could make movies about the barista poet and the librarian poet, opening a bookstore and cuddling cats in dim bed, kissing. soft. ladybugs and summer parks and backpacking through europe. open windows. that’s who we are. my understudy nods, says silently, we are open windows to jump from? my understudy nods when he says that i should be happy that i am alive. my understudy stays inside my body, while i float away. i climb among the rafters, closer against the sky. my knees covered in cloudy dust. the wood sends slivers down my fingertips, and through my mind, and i climb across the roof and i look towards the sky. my understudy, she holds me like a balloon. she carries me with her, always. my understudy holds me down every time i curl up around my migraine mind, when i wish i had more bottles than i have. more alcohol, more pills, more anything. she looks at orion and sees more than his bow and arrows. she sees personal mythology. and somedays well, the first poem in my capstone chapbook. critiques welcome, as always,
i. once upon a sunset, long summer days; i was there you were two ii. seconds caught in f/5.6 aperture frames blending together until iii. reality is distorted by filters because we can’t let our true colors show iv. turning us to faded moments caught in polaroid flash, memories diluted by v. plastic film freezing forever smiles into vi. place and time
some days we are the musicians playing the cellos as the ship goes down. there is no quiet way to end this. in an alternate universe, love is a flat rock that never sinks no matter how often we skip the stones across lake reflected skies. so let us stay strangers. let us breathe right here still and empty handed.
Dance to the silence. You gotta dance to the silence }x2 Learn Train Condition yourself. To move. Without. Sound. Without. Telling yourself to move. Bow* your body break your heart break your mind. Bow your body. }x2 Bow** and bake the times. Break your mind Dance to the silence. Thank the thought. And Let it be. Appreciate the way you think. And bee. Break your heart. Sew your soul. Save solitude. Bake the times. Thank. Dance to the silence. The way it sounds. Soul silnece. Sole silence. Dance to silent sounds and sew solitude. Dance to soulful saves. Dance. Sole sew to save the dance. Soul dance to save the silence. Dance to the silence. Dance to silence the sew. Dance to silence the soul. Silence the save sole. Silence the sole save. Dance to silence the sounds that sew sole souls to save the dance to the silence. Soul silence. Solitude dance. Solitude dance. Dance to safety save the silence. Dance to save. Sew the soul. Sew the dance. Sole dance. Dance to the silence. Dance to the silence. Quiet. Bend both bosoms. Bake the times. Bow.** Bow* the body. Break your heart. Bow and bake the times. Break your mind. Bow and bake the times. Break your. Bow your body break your heart. I said dance. I said break. I said silence. _ Footnote: }x2 previous two lines are repeated *bow | bō | **bow | bou | Author note: This is better performed, but I wanted to share.