to email@example.com/02/2016 1:50 pm
on my morning walk to class
the condensation from last night
cools my ankles.
It reassures me to think that I may be the opposite of Achilles
if nothing else is protected,
at least my steps forward are.
while the world seems to,
like humans, generate more water in the night,
I find myself wanting to cry most often
during my time on treadmills-
looking out at stranger motion
from my one dimensional fishbowl.
Perhaps my sweat and tears are just my body’s attempts
a friend of mine spent two nights at the hospital
because of her pneumonia
now I look at the bruises on her hand
from needles made for mending
and feel the life drawn out of me.
I miss watching you create
your versions of people
with your paintbrush and your pages.
Reality to me was always more red than purple
but I’m thankful you love in lavender
that you think of me on days
that are aching for rain.
I think of you in moments of faith
not contrived Sunday mornings
but the Tuesday I sat
and looked at foreign memories
and the Wednesday
when the light fell in love
with the shadows on the quad.