Monday, July 4, 2016

n a t a l i a


i say it real deep, like im russian or something..she says it quick, a lovely little snap of the tongue and she is off on some other adventure and all i can do is follow.

but she is quick. curls flying, almond eyes, i can barely catch her.

we met in the northern rain, children following for empty promises, a bracelet and a contract. 

she was searching for the perfect bag and for pillow cases. i was cold and she gave me her feather leggings.

for five days i followed her.
sometimes drunk, always wet,herbal baths and happy water, mosquito nets and mountains.
nothing mattered.

time stopped, rain fell, it was our land!

we met again, in the south, the sun and the heat. 
she took me on the back of her bike, an endless narrative, her in spanglish, me in turkish curses.

we rode through the lawless veins of the city; seafood and sandwiches, trash and treasure,
the flat light of the equator, the smoke on our skin.

it was a little war, and it was fun.  it still is, though this place was hard for me.

i like the cold, i like weather, storms and waves and leaves that change with the seasons.

but not Nata. she makes mysteries, my witch, she sees magic in mud, little loves in the lizards,

sweet sweat, her rust glimmers, her shadows shine.  diamonds from dirt, from coal to crystal, Natalia can take you anywhere and you’ll love it,

because this girl, wild soul,

can build you into a thousand histories and in each history, there will be some kind of light

Thursday, September 24, 2015



Li-Ly, two small steps down from your tongue. everything in steps, documenting, calculating, she is a woman of logic, unreasonable reason, i wonder where her teeth hide behind those closed lips. blonde, big eyes, she is so serious; the world in cases, catalogued, ordered, our lives couldn’t be farther apart and how can you speak to someone who lives so far from you? it is impossible, clicks and near misses, she hears all the wrongs things, in the shadows i say things wrong and our heads hit, blues and bone bumps, bruises bloom, i wish i could make her laugh sometimes….
because when she laughs it is like the spring, 
smile like sunflowers, 
something you turn towards, it bubbles, catches corners, pulls at cheeks, the sides of eyes, it is like a secret that you want to know because this girl, skinny shins, mane of hair, this girl knows it all. 

but sometimes we forget what we know, so, little sister, here are some things i want you to remember:

i am so proud of you. 
what bravery, lily, netipot noses and broken bums, what else could that city take from you? ten million and you made it, bikes and skis and surf boards and bat shit cray (in a good way) boyfriend buying lights and your apartment was so bright, and you made that bright, tiny box your home and it is lovely.

i respect the shit out of you.  
endlessly loyal, you hold those you care for close.  continents, cliffs and oceans, cant keep you from sitting next to someone, snuggling (yuck) up under their arm and telling them what they should change in their life. and we all know you're right, but god you can be fucking condescending about it, 
and don’t talk to me like i'm a child
is what i want to say to you, but that would be foolish on my part, because miss marguerite, 
this planet needs more people like you... people with hopeful souls, people who love despite mistakes, despite the small dark things, despite everything, 
sis, you make all the efforts for your friemily 
(yes, I just combined friends and family).

and i think you are pretty much the coolest cat there ever was and i know that at twenty five sometimes you worry you are wasting your young years; business trips and best friend trips, bar tips and yoga slips, new york chic and barbecue dip, you are amazing, and you're still a baby, this is when life gets good and if i could tell you to do one thing it would be this:

Don’t Doubt; just keep moving towards your joy my girl, my beautiful sister, my tiger lily, because there aint nothing in this whole wide world you cant do. 

all the kisses,
your rough and tumbled maniac in the hat martine