Marginalia

—-

I fold into the margins of a dog-eared cafe

and push my earbuds deeper.

There are certain systems I dare not disrupt

so I bookend my restless mind

with a waterfall of music.

I write love poems in cursive

(because I can and because I like the way

my hand feels sliding across the page),

buy ink the way earnest women hoard lipstick

(all specters of ruby and red)

to unleash the beauty within.

Coquette or ingenue,

it matters not.

What’s another word for vow

and can my lips stretch wide enough

to release the shape of it?

Watch me preach about power

even though I can’t stop my right eye from twitching.

With everything spinning toward infinity,

nothing else matters.

So boldly illuminated were we,

falling along the edge,

dancing borders in your backyard,

setting fire to all extended branches.

Some things don’t answer to force,

I remember now,

and I fail to convince my pen

to map us out of here.

I just want to write the way I used to,

when no one was watching

and nothing was at stake.

————-

(above)
The Making of Marginalia
October 2023 – August 2024
Winston Salem, NC / Santa Fe, NM

———