In a conference once

I saw you-
ducking under the table
and the room froze.
You reached out fingers that I've come to know
outstretched and the fly in midair hangs still.
But I can move
because you make me magic
and I sweep under this wooden desk
to my knees that have been swept under my heels--
And when my fingertips, marked with time, kneed the carpet,
your eyes lift.
Pools of excitement lit perfectly by the lights--
And I'm reminded of the lavender velvet sparkling 
portrait we admired once. 
Crawl to me.
No. Don't.
Stay there; in the frozen room--Captivated
while I crawl to you. 
Crawl to you so you can help me stand.
Stand proud in this unreal world that your hands
and mine have molded like a painter whose taken up clay.
Molding the biggest Vase that will hold one Red Rose.
I'm Thrown. 
I'll let you throw me anywhere.  
To find Red throrns.
To find Red rooms, lips, and apples--Cracked red fingertips.
What I'm trying to get at here --in this room with no noise--
Is that My deep brown hungry eyes have gone to you
every moment of the day, 
And if I could let them crawl to you, 
as you pick up your pen,
I'd kiss you here...In Front Of Them All.

Chameleon

This morning
My eyelids did not gracefully find the light,
The second after they opened my mind and body jerked.
around.
all over.
like a tantrum thrown in front of the entire super market 
just cant control
just couldn't control my feet as they chased each other in the earliest part of morning.
running.
running.
running.
putting into action what my mind has been doing
what my mind cant stop doing. 
what i escape from when I launch into characters in 
"the banana man"
or "the 17th of June"
or "Say de Kooning"
plays im in
characters i play
colors i change into.

banana girl is -...purple. deep deep purple.  
she wears multi-colored bracelets and tastes like rainbow sherbet but her true self is the deepest most royal purple.

i walk out of the class room. rain soaked pavement smacks the red stop light onto pink pants and the energy glides up my legs as they march on
 
to being Kat - a sister concerned with keys to a Camero. A pale Blue.  a color that is reminiscent of joy and ease, but too pale to actually fulfill anything. pale blue shirt, with pale blue sound in her ears, and pale blue eyes with far off thoughts that

when the hour is up-- fade back to whatever the color my eyes actually are.  And move through the arts center to my last destination, 

Mandy- color: orange.  But not the color of my shirt today (consequently the shirt I wore yesterday as well) but the closest orange to red--blood orange I've heard it called, but Mandy says vibrant orange, the word blood makes her queezy.  from the center of her passionate heart, this orange soaks up everything around her --like the ink from a sharpie when it spreads across a napkin. 

  And then I walk out the door and to this coffee shop, feeling the tints left on the windows of my eyes:  rich purple, pale blue, blood orange--and I feel the swirl of my own life tunneling in my head: green, blue, red, pink, orange, gray, black, pale yellow--colors I don't understand- and they take their turn with me one at a time.  

Ordering tea: i don't know, peachy?
--peachy with flashes of teal because I had to be sassy with the cashier.
"I meant HOT tea, not sweet tea..."   (then back to peachy, quick) "I'm sorry.  No, no no, it's me. i should have said Hot"
Walking around campus: on a great day: warm yellow, glowing
moments of doubt: off white.  
the color i am right now: a blue so blue it's almost black-- slowly fading with time to pink-- ill probably end up crazy-pink today..

i dont know i dont know...im just typing 
and changing colors, 

chameleon.
me.
Have I ever told you I'm a chameleon?

Chameleon: They are distinguished by their parrot-like feet, their separately mobile eyes, their very long, highly modified, and rapidly extrudable tongues, their swaying gait, crests or horns on their distinctively shaped heads, and the ability of some to change color

the ability of some to change color. 

at work

Hello, 

From work, 

at the desk of the books. 

I've just gotten cast in a new play!! 

Horray!! ( https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/the-superhero-and-his-charming-wife#/ )

But alas, I am obligated to my tasks

Here 

Each day for a little while at least

and quietly I wonder where the voices have gone

They were just in the middle of some sort of acapella treat

A snikerdoodle song about how quiet the air snaps these days

when the running tail of a red ribbon led them off

knee cap pancake mistletoe hurricane

and I'm supposed to be entering these invoices into this database see

but instead I'm found on a climb of my favorite magnolia tree

Nostalgia.  Those sugar cookies in the zip lock bag that I brought for you once. 

Someone else's poem, because I wanted to be good enough. 

I know I know, Lena Dunham tells me I already am.  

I pick at my face anyway.  To spite my dreams of using it one day.  

http://youtu.be/PQ01AT5mI4Y <---ohhh commercials... 

__But I have been meaning to write

as i tend to say

and tell you I've been thinking of you

as i tend to do

To wish you happy Hanukkah for my father's side and Merry Christmas for my Mother's

Reaching dancing arms back to grab at the ridge of a hip bone

some kind of tale

soft like the clouded dreams where ex's present themselves

and it's nice because the low frequency buzz is gone

and it's nice because I'm still in bed.  

and it's nice because I haven't started doing anything yet,

only, I'm fondling myself.