intuition

it’s always so weird when i go back and click just drafts and i find things that i’ve saved and didn’t know i hadn’t finished, or things like this one that for whatever reason, i decided not to post. i think i can share it now. it was written 2.2.06.

photos of the city
so beautiful
my city through your eyes
i wish it weren’t all so distant

yesterday it struck me like hot heat
an intuition

(why don’t i have good ones
my friends winning the lottery
or finding new love?)

plane trips
weekends
my city
your mother

i had dreams last week
sleeping restlessly, depressed, in bed
you and i and bunnies
my mother dead
i hope against all hope
that my dreams are not so psychic after all

i sit in my rooms of god
my modern day churches

in fellowship halls and basements
i hear people talk
those sinners, those saints
amends with family
mothers … and fathers

sitting at deathbeds
reconciliations of times past
relationships healed

but also of graveside amends and amends done in prayer on our knees.

these are the stories that break me down
make me cry tears
of joy
of hope
of fearful sadness
that i might not have that
that i might have that, too

i know the barest details
a mother
a sickness
the things that tie us together

the mystery of why bad things happen to good people
the unconditional love of a mother for a child

saw a movie last night
about fear and loneliness
they played gone for good

when i was separated people i loved so very much
there was always this thought i had
would i see them if my father died?
how would they know?
would all be forgiven over a loss too deep to comprehend?

intuition
is not always truth

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