By: Abigail Handojo 2023
Movements made from memory,
Not motive
Wait a while more,
Go through the motions
My masterpiece, my work of art,
You are unfinished
It is not yet your time to be framed
Hanging like a museum painting
When did getting up get so hard?
When did what to wear become a crisis?
You cannot tell where the floor begins
Or the wall ends
The ocean in your mind
Does not match the deserts in your shoes
Still, I’d walk a mile in them
If only to be beside you
For the flowers of tomorrow
Are still seeds today
So stand in the shower
And pretend that it's rain
Sweeter than sugar
Saltier than ocean spray
Believe me,
There was a time when I felt the same
Someday you will learn there are other ways
To give your life away
For now, leave a voicemail
I’d listen to you for hours
Puddles deeper than graves
Low battery, April showers
Don’t you want to stay
To see the seasons change?
Rain tracing patterns on the sidewalk
Blurring the neighborhood children’s chalk
There’s no need to hide
Who you are after dark
Your heart sinks like pebble-filled skirts
Your ankles weren’t built to stumble on,
My sentences were
So waltz with me
In the kitchen, near the sink
Falling more than six feet deep
Your stubborn force meets my mystery
Even if all we are is conflicting
Afraid of so many things
A natural disaster
Let’s make history
I could write volumes
On the looks you lend me
Like library books
Let me borrow your heart
Though I can’t promise I’ll return it
Let me be your weatherman
Since the rain is my overused muse
But it’s easier to write about her,
Than it is to write about you
Read at the California Writers Club July 2023 open mic
Original cover edited using IbisPaintX, Picsart, and InShot
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