Breathe

Tonight

the sun sets.

Its yellow illuminating Pikes Peak

as though this were its last chance

to show humans

its truest expression

of beauty.

What if it were you

with one last chance

or one last day:

What would you do

to die

fulfilled?

If it were me,

I’d show you a love

so deep

you would cry

spontaneous tears of joy

and you would be full as me.

In fact, here,

I’ll show it to you now

Open your heart to the sky

and breathe.

My Wardrobe

Since C. I’ve been exploring love as though it were a wardrobe. Pieces of clothing, shirts or slacks I could pull from a hanger and try on for a while.

When I tried C. on, he fit perfectly. We were comfortable. We tried on different brands of happiness together. I relaxed into a cozy trust in the universe. Things felt natural, preordained, like destiny was casually fulfilling itself.

Until I opened the door to my armoire one day and found that everything had vanished. All gone, not a single unpaired sock was left. There was no explanation.

Since him, I’ve been somewhat desperately searching for the right thing to wear.

When I found myself stepping into a new relationship, it began to define me. With N., I donned pants with zippers and spiked my hair and had a dog chain with a lock around my neck. I’d almost convinced myself that the clothes fit.

Or F., who I wore like a banner, a political shirt that read "LOOK WHO I’M FIXING, LOOK WHO I’M MAKING INTO A BETTER PERSON..." and then in small print: "SO THAT I CAN BE DISTRACTED FROM MYSELF." His was the hardest outfit to peel off.

I didn’t put on much with Y. I wore the hat he crocheted for me just to humor him, just for the summer, for fun. It stayed light. I gained confidence from his easy adoration, the way he showered me with bracelets, things he'd made with his hands. We stayed on the surface, saw ourselves from the outside. But when we started to look deeper, beneath some layers, I found that his fabric was fundamentally different than what I needed.

With K., I went naked, displaying my body as though I'd found it for the first time. He helped me to discover myself in a way I'd not thought to look before. And, as I changed into myself, he left. I felt stripped; he'd taken some of my beautiful nakedness with him. We stayed friends, but for so long, I didn't know how to see myself without him.

Forever I searched for the perfect fit. As though somehow finding the right outfit, the right guy, would complete me. I have finally made the space, now, in my closet, for other articles ... I am beginning to stock it with things like yoga mats, riding boots, camping supplies, climbing gear. Bathing that space in devotion to something better than a wardrobe; in self-love, in Reiki energy. My wardrobe is no longer defining me; I am defining it. Emerging anew, more beautiful than ever before.