Look at your accomplishments.

Just take a breath.

Like Essence.

breathe

breathe

breathe

Bask in the sunlight when you awaken.

Your beautiful doe eyes

still heavy with the dreams

that were not resolved.

What happened in the ether?

Was it beneficial?

Because it is always what draws the drive doesn’t it?

Those moments before the lawn sprinklers abrupt the narrative.

It’s better that way.

Sometimes dreams have a way.

They don’t always end do they?

               You’re not from this earth

       but please stay on my account,

          i look at your eyes

    damp and ready for a high-speed chase

streetlights and emerald spilled

         it’s only noon

Driving down the sultry coast

glimpses of sunset past the mustard hills

just

heaven

crème de la crème

can’t stop craving this

• 

She never mentioned those late-night walks

The sudden movements of the sea

Her leather backpack clung so tight it would leave marks on her back in the morning

Ancient reckless aches of waves breaking around her

Dried up by cacti and the occasional tumbleweed

A man in a tattered straw hat

White hair wet

closes his eyes to the sea

quickly hums a familiar song

a canvas of memories

brushes his octaves

acoustics heard on the reef at Cress Street

shaping the mood farther south 

The fit was perfect.

Lovely to slip into. The dress was sheer.

Flawless

Until an embroidery got caught on my wrist. Like the damnedest thing.

Really, even the small dots

That formed

And pricked my skin

A reminder if I had married you

that day

when we ran around devouring the world

I would have worn a black dress

It would not bleed through

Much easier to burn

You smell like peaches, Peter blurted out.

She caught his worried resting face in the microwave oven’s reflection.

That’s about it.

You smell like peaches.

Those white elephants. He grinned at the panoramic ocean view.

    Everything else remained thick, gray and invisible. The water was considerably more, vast and exposed when viewed from this height.

Carefully, he sorted out the variety of percussion instruments, crystal singing bowls, gongs and his precious pan drum.

    Musical tools cluttered the floor like condiments strewn out randomly.

Outside the unrelenting marine layer offered up sporadic bursts of lush greens. The dive into deep ocean. Coming up to lay on the rocks with turtles clamoring on his backside.

The bones of it. Crisp clean lines. Closed each instrument with delicate custody. His fingers moved fast. Each one laid out with precision.

Dear girl from nowhere,

    Oh, you are such a gorgeous mystery!

I think you want an adventure. Burn your thoughts.

               Long afternoons involving ice cream and waffles.

Have you been to pig island?

They are like pigeons. Bigger, with mouths and teeth.

                      Whenever, let me know.

Find a place for you to go.

Last call for Irvine Station.

She struggles with her messy bun.

Dry chapped lips still bother her.

Rather than search for the small tube of moisturizer, she picks at it.

Her thoughts consumed by the desert. A chance to start over.

Closing doors.

Loops of hillsides with lime green patches.