Changing Shapes

For the longest time, my favorite shape was a circle. I liked its repetition and how it symbolizes forever. Infinity.

Two years ago, I packed my bags and before I left the airport, my elder siblings hugged me tight and said goodbye. That broke my love for circles. For mornings, I’d search for familiarity in faces. A reference or a joke – I talked about beginnings, they talked about the weather. I talked about coffee sessions and they talked about drinking sessions.

From days turned to months and months turned into seasons. Two winters later and a semi version of Spring later, I saw a face at a train station. She wore a gigantic bag pack and held a cup of coffee. I hugged her tight and said hello!

We took a photo together with the name of the train station above our heads to remember this moment we meet again.

These circles were cut in the middle and flattened out as straight lines, years have changed us. Broken us apart and pieces are still finding it’s way back.

From airports to phone calls to train rides, these lines have kept us together. Perhaps cut circles weren’t damaged goods but new pathways to meet and to move forward.

I like these lines.

Advertisements

What I think about when I think about loving

Featured

IMG_0540.JPG

What I think about when I think about loving

Let’s replace the butterflies with bees
A constant list of things to do
Of ways to be better
Of ways to be

Let’s replace the fireworks with a flame
Just one that stays burning
Stay away from the explosives,
The aftermath burns

Let’s replace the theme song with a soundtrack
Transitional, track after track
Grow up from fleeting moments
Live past ever after

Let’s replace the superlatives with consistency
Balance the emojis with dates and a night in
Pajamas with nachos
But remember there’s always room for stilettos and white knights

I remember I always wanted that look Leonardo Di Caprio had when he saw Claire Danes through the aquarium
I wanted that moment when Shane West built a telescope for her to see the stars
Breakfast, it is sacred and sharing the moment should be a blessed sacrament

I still fumble with my keys at the doorstep
I still smile with the first morning greet
I still roll my eyes at natural quirks and end with a laugh
It’s silly but I still…

Home cooked meals and vinyl records
Dim lights and road trips
Street food and take aways
Through the morning rush
And the turning of newspaper pages

In all it’s intensities
Passed through the ambiguity
Questioning capacities
Across my palm lines
Awkward cliches and broken cracks
I still think about love