A stampede of clouds hurtle
over Lake Michigan, make
leopard spots on the surface,
teal and cerulean faux-fur
flecked white in the wind. Sand bars
ripple, zebra stripes reaching
north-south beneath the east-west
push of the water. Checks
and stripes of city blocks
and boulevards, paisley parks
that curve aortic into the hearts
of neighborhoods, each pattern
feels closer than the last
until we touch down
on the yellow-hemmed tan suit
that buttons this city to every other,
all business, lined with caution
and a wink, a welcome.

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love notes
a ritual to start the week

brows rise, sweat clouds rain
on this pea soup of a day
— “because it’s August”

small feet thump, groove tunes
hum from old speakers, still crisp
— “Dance, No One’s Watching”

tables of empty
cups, clean plates and full bellies
— “thanks for being here”

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love notes
a ritual to start the week

Facing unfamiliar faces, it’s easy
to turn and face the sea
instead, look into
endlessness as if it were knowable,
or known. It’s easy
to opt out of
unknowns in front of us,
self-select for safety
and tell ourselves
it’s exclusion. It’s easy
to turn away from
our fear of being seen and
face the perfection outside
ourselves, forgetting
our part in it.

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love notes
a ritual to start the week

One for the spark to start anew.
    Light the wick. Melt the wax.

Two for the flame ’tween me and you.
    Feed the fire. Keep it back.

Three for the blaze that lives to grow.
    Light the wick. Melt the wax.

Four for the torch that holds the glow.
    Feed the fire. Keep it back.

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love notes
a ritual to start the week

Patience, friends, we are
    but human: bound
to pack and stack
    each muddy brick
on our endless quest
    toward the sky.
They leave our hands
    weary, our feet
worn, but our hearts,
    bellies and eyes
never check their reach.
    Upward, we strive,
slowly molding impossible hopes
    into our reality.

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love notes
a ritual to start the week

The leaves are not the tree’s clothes
but its mouths, scarfing
up sun to inch ever closer
to what feeds them. The mountain
does not shroud itself in shrubs
out of shame, it shows itself —
a home left unlocked, daring
us to loot it. The smell of upturned soil is
a blessing, a thank you
for taking up the invitation laid
at our feet. Only we
felt the need to cover her
as we cover ourselves. Open up
my loves: let us in. Share
the letter your bones send to your skin.
Fold it into your palm and slip
it between my vertebrae, make me
lean in, inch ever closer
to what feeds me.

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love notes
a ritual to start the week

your fire soothes like summer rain
my icy blood gushing
deluginous through gutters
deep inside me delusion
rises to my mind dumps its drowsy
steam into synapses burdens
their gaps with aplomb
emptied into puddles
and cleansed of portents
leaving only cascades of
potential pride
in its place to reign

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love notes
a ritual to start the week

look in to             look out for
yourself: find       signs of yourself
radiating                in others:
riches within        their hearts expand
your heart             into cracks
like gold               to heal them:
and behold           your soul
how it glows         made whole

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love notes
a ritual to start the week

The doors in the house only close
properly when summer
reaches peak heat and the air hangs
like a wet towel
around our necks. They click
into place, their mechanics catching
like old friends who haven’t chatted
in a minute
but still know how to fit
into each other’s breaths, still feel
the warmth in their embrace.

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love notes
a ritual to start the week

Sun fills the sky and clouds fill my head, 
angry thunder rumbling in my cheeks,
as lightning streaks down my throat.
My body is certain these spring blooms
seek nefarious ends belied by their delicacy.
Ah, azalea! Ah, peony! Ah, rose!
Your pinks ring my irises and your thorns
grow tracheal, sting my insides. Why yes,
I will dare to sniff once more.

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love notes
a ritual to start the week

When some new refrain plucks
your shame-strings like you’re
a banjo at a hoedown — dance.
Don’t let the rows of steel chords
stretch into a thrumming prison
for one. Just two-step to center-floor
and heel-toe your fear away. Let it
drip like sweat from your brow.
Dab it with a bandana and hang it
from the back pocket of your Levi’s
like some signal of your particular
sensitivities to those who wish to
do-si-do.

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love notes
a ritual to start the week