In the beginning, there was a disco and a passing
and an open space
and a happy accident
and a long conversation in Spanglish.
Over Japanese bbq and Raimat,
the chat bloomed and love radiated,
smelling soft and new, like spring.
Love, too, was the first time
we travelled together.
A skiing trip, with your black leather jacket
and urgency to buy gloves, we made a lot of love
that weekend, but didn't ski.
In a crowded Senegalese bus,
You hang off the back with your hair blowing in the wind
Me smushed, a speck of white in a sea of darkness,
but laughter and smiles are love.
In the morning before Pablo is born,
you nearly faint holding me up as the epidural needle pierces me.
Later on, you hold me up, as I wail with pain and gasp with laughter in between.
One day, I wake up suddenly, and you're not by me.
And I have this feeling. And I check my phone.
4 calls from my brother and dad.
Their silence pounds on my helplessness.
And when we get on a plane, 16 hours later.
And she is already gone, all you can do is hold my hand,
and let me cry as I need to.
But our love, our joy, Pablo, is bursting with life and
we are so lucky we have him.
And when he gets up and parades around Mom's funeral,
the silent grins and cheeky snickers ring through the air,
sending love into the universe to wherever she is.
And in time, the love that we have is a cheeky theater night in the city,
A bottle or two of wine on the back terrace,
A family swim in the pool that goes on and on.
And love is when Pablo wants to talk with Abu or Grandpa or Lane,
because the people we love, are the people that love him.
And love is the "I'm sorry mama" when he rolls over my foot.
Or the "I miss papa" week after week after week of work travel and now quarantine.
And it's love in the phone call, you make, to tell him Asterisk, all the while,
gathering images on your screen to show him you are reading the book.
And it's love, when we talk three times a day and it still doesn't feel like enough
because even though you are here, you aren't here.
And the words popping out on this screen are love for authors and books and words
that really bring us to the moment.
#SOL20 #day22 #love
and an open space
and a happy accident
and a long conversation in Spanglish.
Over Japanese bbq and Raimat,
the chat bloomed and love radiated,
smelling soft and new, like spring.
Love, too, was the first time
we travelled together.
A skiing trip, with your black leather jacket
and urgency to buy gloves, we made a lot of love
that weekend, but didn't ski.
In a crowded Senegalese bus,
You hang off the back with your hair blowing in the wind
Me smushed, a speck of white in a sea of darkness,
but laughter and smiles are love.
In the morning before Pablo is born,
you nearly faint holding me up as the epidural needle pierces me.
Later on, you hold me up, as I wail with pain and gasp with laughter in between.
One day, I wake up suddenly, and you're not by me.
And I have this feeling. And I check my phone.
4 calls from my brother and dad.
Their silence pounds on my helplessness.
And when we get on a plane, 16 hours later.
And she is already gone, all you can do is hold my hand,
and let me cry as I need to.
But our love, our joy, Pablo, is bursting with life and
we are so lucky we have him.
And when he gets up and parades around Mom's funeral,
the silent grins and cheeky snickers ring through the air,
sending love into the universe to wherever she is.
And in time, the love that we have is a cheeky theater night in the city,
A bottle or two of wine on the back terrace,
A family swim in the pool that goes on and on.
And love is when Pablo wants to talk with Abu or Grandpa or Lane,
because the people we love, are the people that love him.
And love is the "I'm sorry mama" when he rolls over my foot.
Or the "I miss papa" week after week after week of work travel and now quarantine.
And it's love in the phone call, you make, to tell him Asterisk, all the while,
gathering images on your screen to show him you are reading the book.
And it's love, when we talk three times a day and it still doesn't feel like enough
because even though you are here, you aren't here.
And the words popping out on this screen are love for authors and books and words
that really bring us to the moment.
#SOL20 #day22 #love
I love this book, and your version does it justice! I love how the name of love changes and how it is spanning the distance. Just like in Matt's book, love takes on what it needs to, even the love we don'tknow to look for.
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