Fair Flying

  Venice is paradise in summer: Lovers lay in gondolas under a lemon sun, sprawling on top of embroidered pillows and celestial dreams. Stress undresses itself on the boardwalk, leaving nothing but relaxed Venetians, who know better than to mask nature’s path. Domenica Rosa, you were there once, weren’t you? As a child, perhaps, exploring the damp stones with your violet eyes and young bones. And were you delighted? Or perhaps, like me, you kept your soul at home, safe and sound from wet ground and deep inside a catacomb carved by kitchen knives. Even so, Domenica, dear grandmother goddess of stars, stripes and pizzelles, listen to me. Hear my voice and embrace me again, for I must learn how to be as you once were: A mother weathered well for loving, a lover lost but never abandoned, a woman like Auntie Mame, with a tasteful tongue for storytelling, wrapped in nostalgia.

Through a screen I observe A fortunate affair: A familiar gathering of family With you I wish to share. Stories upon stories Some written, some untold From better or worse times, Collected in colloquial troves. Drunken mouths of laughter And cheeks rosy with blush, A most delightful event Where one is seldom enough. Though we are each our own (Wise, ridiculous or fun) Every smile is a sparkle and Together we dazzle as one. Through a screen I miss them, Every laugh I hear tonight And though it makes me smile, I cry a little out of spite For technology is a gift, One prized beyond compare. But family is the real prize, The rarest diamond solitaire.

Headlights make no difference in this wasteland where streams of cold light build a wall of white against us, betraying us, perpetually pulling us, Reminding us of a time when no one was lucky, when no one was safe from this blinding oblivion. Beneath this mechanical steed snowflakes retaliate, a rebellion in our domain. This is a threat so ashen, so ancient, running far beneath our bones and into the cores of our souls, where hot blood runs cold. I am made of ice, transparent, still, fragile, and quite frankly in denial of the energy emanating, pulsating, ricocheting off my skin like snow and wind upon the road when we get too close, defying gravity, defying memory, defying me.

Dear Family, Thank you. Thank you for always being so crazy and lovely and wonderful through everything. Thank you for raising me with all the love and kindness that you could muster, and all the greatness of your souls. Thank you for surrounding me with warmth and joy, even on the darkest days. Thank you for standing with me, even when I don't know exactly what I'm standing for. Thank you for accepting me as I am. Thank you for loving me as I am. Thank you for seeing the good things about me when I cannot. Thank you for bringing me up and keeping me there as much as possible. Thank you for sacrificing your time and energy for my well being. Thank you for making me smile and laugh and cry. Thank you for being my family, for being my home. Thank you for letting me come home. Thank you for all the stories, all the tales of old and new, and thank you for just being you! It's not even everything, but it is mainly what I've been thinking about lately. I am filled with ...

Dear friends, Thank you. I'm going to be honest: you have all shaped my life in some way. Throughout our hectic years of high school, or even long before, you've been there for me, like guardian angels. The funny thing is, you don't even realize it. Some of you live with the delusion that you don't matter, that you're just specs in the vaccuum of space and time. I laugh and I cry at that notion, because you are so much more.  Have you ever stopped to think how much you mean to me and to others? Do you ever value your existence the way I do? Because you should.  Each of you are special in one way or another. Each of you have a piece of my heart, a piece of my soul. You've given me hope and you've given me comfort. You've been loyal and sweet and kind and wonderful and mind-opening. Your experiences have become my experiences. When you hurt, I feel that pain too. You probably don't see it, but maybe if I tell you enough times, with just the rig...

Although my pearl eyes are vacant, they light up when you rise, your breath the flame of life inside me. I’m doused in the heat of you, the light of you in the reign of your excellency and I know you like no one else. You are celestial to everyone but me because I see you as a new hue every day we meet. I know I’m not meant to think of you as such, but your lips are the softest embers I’ve ever touched.

I always cry when I am home I guess I'm meant to be alone And now and then I feel like stone, Powerless, unable to roam. For years I've left my home a mess, Counted myself among the blessed And now I am a silhouette Swallowed by subliminal stress. I watch the stars above my bed And count the colors, blue to red (Looks like the contents of my head) While the rest of me turns to lead. I am always sad when you go For time will never ever slow; When I look back I still feel low Because I see what you don't know: You always cry when you are home But you shall never be alone-- I'm here for you through sea and stone; We'll be together forever And then some.