a part of me remains unchanged in the time we have known each other your reflection a drop falling to meet the calm, cool lake water moments wrapped in layers like pebbles rolling in endless waves I am there that part of me that has always been tumbling You are there in those rolling ripples the ones you made through my life with simple words with love there and I am no longer unseen ~
like a fly crawling across the screen door on a hot August afternoon time passes in slow plodding steps when you are gone I listen to the cicada scream in the trees the heat of the day grows as I coax another minute on the clock to stumble into the past you are never far from my thoughts still I count the minutes the hours the days until I hear your voice again knowing I only have to close my eyes to see you open my heart to feel you open my arms to hold you ~
where do I begin along these empty lines to unfold the days lay them out on the desk in carefully crafted phrases wind them in delicate circles around my body tucked into a thousand pieces of paper waiting for the north wind to catch them through the window beginning with hope laughter in the fresh crisp air days stretch over rooftops long lines left by sunsets and shadows waiting for the sky to change dust collects on shelves decades old while I sit in the half light listening to whispers and heart beats holding joy before it fades ~ la 2021
turn the dial as the sun passes the window orange glow soup heats on the stove I stretch my arms to wrap around the empty space empty embrace before me fluorescent light distorts my reflection lines point in different directions around the eyes don't know where to look to find the truth which line to step along or trace night creeps up onto the windowsill perched just outside looking in ~ la 2021
lines on the page drawn with a careful hand outlines move in slow curves to the centre crossing over in unexpected intersections blank pages slowly fill colour pulled by sunlight sneaking through cracks we are okay alone living in the corners of our soul but together is better when the lines meet before continuing on ~ la 2021
your voice falls over me like honey from a spoon held high enough to slip down to cover to soothe to calm me I breathe again for the first time not realizing I had held my breath for years breath comes dressed in laughter in tears in healing in freedom an unintended gift perhaps not understood it does not matter now that the cage door is open I stretch beyond what I bowed to and gather torn pieces in my arms ready to fly ~ la 2020
the pause after the end leaning into another beginning that place I want need to step into it fold my body fold my heart fold myself to curl around you to hold you close to me and be held beyond the edge of myself but like a thousand steel needles I fear if I close my eyes I am lost alone bound and torn into slim ribbons of existence I hold myself out to where dreams thrive and follow me like music through the trees ask for nothing in return just a pause before ~ la 2020
I have let these threads weave between us in loose and fragile patterns that complicates itself in the futility of existence I go and return to you as the sun passes the window pulling light into corners where it has not touched yet before leaving again I wake and sleep not moving in this isolation allowing what needs to be I have let these threads weave between us in loose and fragile patterns I have let these threads remain ~ la 2020
I have not loved you in the first 18,471 days I have known you not once I have not felt a tenderness towards you or felt compassion in seeing your reflection or cared for you before another not once I have not walked through my soul's estate wondering what I could do to care for you more but now, here we are in conversation for the first time ~ la 2020
one hundred and eighty two days blurred together like paint smeared on canvas like a photograph left too long in the sun like gibberish dreams that fill the night nothing makes sense silence binds isolation with threads left dangling, untended to knot in the early fall winds introspection dances on the edge with uncertainty avoidance brings inspection and distraction by the hand but I... I sit with you, love and wonder what you will teach me ~ la 2020
crowded together pressed against mind's edge empty and faceless peer over the railing above the page pushed against each other they perch to leap first land unscathed between the lines reaching outward towards where my head lies on the desk resting and tiptoe onto my outstretched hand ~ la 2020
torn fabric lets the light in old curtains hang on the windows slightly askew she stands there the second girl, waiting with her back to the wall leaning into the moment one hand braced behind light becomes distraction playing along the wall with abandon the second girl shifts in place watches the shadows join in to stretch and pull the hours that are left in the day they walk in, hand in hand He looks around the room the second girl looks up tilts her head to listen they stand too close talking about their lives he laughs too loudly she knows he watches her over his wife's shoulder trying to catch her eye Watch hands march slowly another second, hour, minute, month passes filled with quiet laughter love exchanged like secret seeds on the wind the game stretched thin to inevitable fading pale light at dusk She reaches out to hold nothing in her hands Memory and a handful of words left to float in the ether No one knew the thread between them delicate untouched unchecked uncut undone She stands there, the second girl alone with her thoughts unclear in the aftermath what remains unsaid lost forgotten She remembers the scar of a tear she made in the curtain made to let the light in she remembers always being the second girl, waiting ~ la 2020
lei fraser