Breadcrumb #424

MONICA LEWIS

Today was no sleep & coffee. apple dreaming through an old old window. brave with no bangs but cat-winked eyes & feeling good in this skin. sun was bright but unheavy, kissing brooklyn brownstones side by side by side. street tree-lined & alive. here, they own their homes, they work hard past bone to claim their homes their homes are homes not houses and family is home is second only to the gift of alive. you. are. alive. right here. on the train we talk we spill eagerly into each other. we open wide. we hit soho and st. marks and a sexy new bong with a hot pink mouth. a cab then a bar then soul-talking and tears. every moment the chance to start again new eyes new tools. the power in the pulse. then we puff giggle puff, giggle giggle giggle puff. then sing, sing shamelessly. you really are crazy-beautiful. 

but just remember that today, you cried.
you laughed, a lot.
you were present and patient.
open and blessed.
disappointed.
and then suddenly content.
tricked and saved by yourself.
remember that
each minute made the moments that made today absofuckinglutely flawless.

• • •

Breadcrumb #182

MARISSA BIANCO

Yours is a violent landscape.
This Midwestern flatness
cuts
knifelike
and the trees are slapped against a maple sky

The river slashes my ankles
I want to trip with you
across the embankments
please tell me the Atlantic is getting closer

I miss salt clothing me
And I want to speed through those graffittied tunnels
Watching my reflection billow in subway chrome

But you somehow soften
the aching
for punctured clouds and
sweet Coney Island sand

We travel to where you grew up
the hills around us thrashing like a turbulent emerald ocean
I’m alone with you
and the jagged Wisconsin bluffs
inhaling an indigo sky that stretches all
the way to Brooklyn

• • •