letter

Mamela at the Provincetown Beach

I feel like you wish
that I would rhyme
Like it’s not a poem
if not in time
So does this one count
my little friend?
Give me a head nod
snaps at the end
Nah, just joking you
those paws can’t snap
Don’t worry yourself
lay down and nap.
You’ve known me so long
you sweet old gal
New York from SF
SF from SoCal.
My darling best girl
Just you next time
You’ll move on; I’ll stay
death a sharp line
I love you so much
warm heart cold world
My baby, my old lady,

Ok, and so you were here, in my city, in my new home (although you never did end up seeing my home and yes I told you I was disappointed because I was but that doesn't mean I should have told you so loudly with that look in my eyes) and I saw you walking my streets. Did it feel large and overwhelming or large and magnetizing or was it just plain big? And on one hand it was amazing having you here, my brother with me in this new place, my brother hugging me and crushing my broken bones with the embrace I have missed. And yet.