1 Samuel

Please remember that the clock is ticking
both at the top of the minute and the
bottom of the minute so time is going
faster than you realize and it’s harder
to keep track of.
Please remember that forgetting is not a sin.
Please remember that I have tried to love you
as best as I could, that sometimes I don’t know
what love really means, that I know what
it is to sweat as I am walking uphill, that I know
what it is to smell the coffee steaming out
of the cup of the person sitting next to me.
Please remember that I don’t drink
coffee and that I have some fraught
relationships with several people in my life.
Please remember that I think of myself
as someone who gets along with people
so the fact that these few people
are not particularly nice to me is
sometimes hurtful until I get over it,
usually because it turns out these few
people are not nice to anyone. Their
animosity toward me is nothing special.
Please remember that I am still in the dark
about myself even though I am in the likely
third trimester of my life.
Please remember to give the steel cut oatmeal
I made this morning to your mother before
you take her to the doctor today.
Please remember to take my green pashmina
shawl home to see if you would like to wear
it to the wedding next weekend.

Please don’t bite your fingernails.
Please don’t get depressed.
Please don’t run out of money.
Please remember that this is about remembering,
not predicting.
Please remember that I was five once and
I want to be five forever and ever.

 

 

 

 

 

2 Samuel

The insentient drop of water quenched my thirst.
The insentient gush of oil fed my nation.
The sentient wound bled.
The sentient dressing hydrated the scar.
The insentient je ne sais quoi identified itself as a teacher.
The insentient parachute failed to open.
The sentient avocado nourished the tortilla chip.
The sentient full moon ate up the sky.
The last time I felt you, you gave me everything.
The last time you felt me, I did not give enough.
The first time I noticed you were unfeeling, I turned away from you.
The first time I saw that you felt more than everyone else, I hid in fear.
There was a piece of anaphora that wedged itself between us.
When we removed it, I started to flow and you lapped it up.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Kings

I don’t know where the time went. It felt
like I had it here in my hand, but when
I unfurl my fingers, there is nothing there
but air on the veins and lifelines on the palm.
Dr. A told me Friday that I do have prominent
capillaries in my fingers which is why perhaps
I am recently susceptible to the veins bursting
in my two middle fingers. I researched this instantly
painful but subsiding and bruising occurrence
and it happens most regularly in middle-aged
women. The bruises last only a few days.
The bursting happens most commonly when
doing the dishes. I think it has to do with moving
from cold to hot and that my middle-aged women
fingers don’t make that transition as easily as they
once did. I don’t think of myself as aging, but there
are bodily signs like this that I am. I will listen.
I will work to follow the time and to precede it.
It is called the Achenbach syndrome. Giving it
this name makes me less fearful. The next time
I feel the vein pop I will raise my hand up so that
the blood flows down. I will wave to the air in welcome.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2 Kings

I have not yet received the gift of confidence in the abundance which I need. I am of two minds
about confidence anyway. I recoil when someone acts more confidently than I think they deserve to.
I am working on drying up the rain that puddles in my subconscious. I am working on sleeping
through conflict. I am working on embracing repetition. I am working on running away from the
person who says I need work. Each time I begin to embrace the pebble I brought home from the
beach, I remember that it was washed up onto the shore at the feet of my ambition. I don’t
remember riding a tricycle, but could I ever build a moat around a sandcastle. I made a separate
bucket filled with a mixture of sand and water and that was my favorite substance to dribble onto
the top of the parapets of my castle. As the surf came in, I dug the moat deeper. My mother called
me to get away from the incoming waves. I retreated and watched them destroy my creation. I gave
myself the time to go back the next day and start over, in spite of my doubt, in spite of the salt water
that erased all trace of me.