maybe i love you.
maybe i want to know you.
i'm stumbling toward my center,
my inner child.
i wonder if she wondered
how i'd be at 21
the way i wonder about you.
tell me now,
do you still cry
to the same songs?
do you pause to breathe?
do you let the sunlight in?
do you remember me?

the look that takes you
when i have drained you dry,
again,
materializes images of anyone but me.
how stunning.

this sunless city is my home.
we move together, closer,
waving under the clouds.
they drown us in days
when we pull the covers up
& ache for light,
but once in a while
their drizzle reminds me
of new beginnings
& throwing my arms out wide.
standing on my roof,
feeling my lungs expand.
laughing at nothing,
crying at the same.
the first bite of a peach,
hopscotch on the pavement.
singing at the show,
missing my mother.
cloudy days gently carry
my life back home to me.