gina prettybrowneyes Poems

Summer photos recall smoothies and wrestling games:
July bodies all
In shades of Welsh's caramels, blurring together from sun ray kisses,
Beach tans contrasting the pure white in our eyes
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Will

(Can I count on You? Is this definite? Will implies no substitutions, no turning back, no
hesitations, no oscillations, no maybe’s.
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there's a peace kept gently cupped in my hands
a tiny, living, breathing peace
a solitary, intrinsic peace
kept alive by my heartbeat and my hope
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Unnoticed by the rest of the world, she
Never held any real interest for you either
You passively accepted her as one among many of your mother’s
Charity cases who spoke little English
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Today
I doubt what I once knew:
“every minute of every hour, in my dreams and in my ‘wakes-
words like dancing deer through the grasses and
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There is no feeling quite as terrifying as not being able to breathe

You heave and choke for the oxygen that moments before
Sang sweetly down your throat;
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To play tag with my two little brothers on sunny days
When they plead with that sweet dew-dropp look in their eyes

To chase them gleefully around the field
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A Sunday night. Through my half-cracked door
I can overhear my eleven-year old brother
Wheezing into his nebulizer in my parent’s
Room; my older brother is called from his girlfriend
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I want to break down the doors of his room
And call out “I am here! ”
But I
Wait.
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Baby, I miss your handshakes
Hugs
Soccer balls
Screams at 8am
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