El Fin

Sunshine, peach cigars, Chopin Preludes and Nocturnes, red-winged blackbirds, mauve sky in the gloaming, a story of an ending, but never a beginning.

Why can’t I make up stories about the beginnings of relationships? I tried, but it felt fake. The ending I can picture perfectly. I am always thinking about endings. This will not end well. Why do something when you know it will not end well. Why can’t I see beginnings? What were their names in my head ? Jane, the friend in Vancouver. Sarah – the one who would be everything I couldn’t be. Maybe because it’s a recurring theme – a story that has a myriad beginnings but always the same ending.

Le Mort

Unedited...

We carry baggage with us
Belongings of others
Other people
Other lifetimes
Other loves
Other losses

We inherit these things
In an effort to avoid
Those lives passing without memoriam

They pass through our hands
To our children
They live in boxes
meaning too much to be disposed of

This was a death
I offered my hair to this death
Absence
Sorting through the belongings
Categorizing
Dividing
Do you want this?
Do you want that?

That teacup
The bible
The constructing tools
No longer useful

Keepsakes
Memories of people long past
As if the keepsakes, the belongings carry the memories
Unaccessible
But still there
Like we wish the owners were.

Eventually, they don’t mean anything anymore
Some host from some tv show sells it in a garage sale
Does it lose its memories
Or just continue collecting in a new venue

Memories buried
In emotion
In a garage
In the dirt

Dissolving
Or waiting to be accessed
By some hopeful archeologist
In an effort to recover
Memories

What of the relationships without their people anymore
Two rings, a garter
Symbols of death.

Update

I've been working out 2-4 days a week - weights, cardio. Gained 3 pounds, but the belly is shrinking and I feel strong! Yay!