The Poetry Marathon

Hope came to me bright

eyed and humble. Like daybreak

She felt like the tide—

the lilting here and now, and

cleanse of disserving patterns

The night we stuck our heads beyond 

The safety of the roof awning

And let the cool drizzle of the surprise

8pm mist create dewdrops in our hair

I felt baptized for the second time 

here in February

Gone was the fear of getting sick

And worrying about the tomorrows

I embraced the dazzling kisses one 

After the other. Accepting each beautiful one

Reminding me of childhood,

Soaking myself to the bone, 

leaping through streams 

Of the International Fountain 

in Seattle

You encouraged me to follow your lead

And in all my controlling nature

Always the hurricane never 

The gift and blessing of sweet

Soft powdery rain

For once I’m not looking over my shoulder

Nor am I looking above

I simply am looking at you

Sllllooooooooowww

Never once feeling like not one

Thing not two things

But to the very definition 

Absolute in number and in sum

nothing 

Zero

It was the amnesia of ever

Existing

Forgetting what shape my matter

Liked to take form

Collecting my mass from the palm

Of my hand to the nape of my neck

Just to remember the sheer will it 

takes to move a breathing body

It’s the readings done on the 

Paleozoic Era and letting

The wild slithering, creeping, crawling

majestic creatures, rule your mind 

For a respite in time.

Pondering how they had their moment

And wondering if this is how they feel

To be ancient and long gone

Running, bounding, so far away

Under sunset haze so orangey thick leaking

Nectar purple so deep

Not once thinking of the consequences of

Inviting such soulful freedom

Never before been felt. I

Gave and I gave and I gave.

Grating haggard pulse I think I can—

not stop the momentum of my

Insular hyperfocus on my 

Not destination and my 

No troubles. I let my selfishness

Usurp any feelings of guilt for continuing to

Run, running, running.

Morning Theta waves 

wakes me up to influence—

a meditative 

state, which opens my heart to

hear, “Today is a great day!”

Playful predator begs for attention.

Whiny and responsive, he demands

for his creature comforts. Like a fly 

begging for escape through that damn 

window. He demands for any kind of 

stimulation he can get.

The thinker indulges the predator’s impulses,

Leading with a great red frown. His finger

Guides him atop wood tables for writing and 

amongst teal plush for lovers to be loving.

Appeased, the predator lays beside me,

breathing his slow fiery breaths. 

Recuperating with eyes so bright and 

focused. That the thinker rushes to

Take time to think once more.

Before the predator begs for attention

again.

Wakefulness is not entirely

eyes open, clear participation

response of the soul.

It is a love letter that is painstakingly

unraveled and rediscovered.

Lovely, pearlescent, and as bright as 

the sunken star.

I haven’t shared this with you yet, but I want to marry 

you by [the summer of June 2026]. 

Fuck the economy and fuck our student loans.

I can’t wait to call you my husband.

I haven’t shared this with you yet, but I imagine my dress 

To be an elegant [spaghetti strap nothing], 

[Body-con], like we both know I prefer. Inlaid with

[Pearls], and [sequins], and all the [sparkling things].

Maybe I could even have [dainty tea gloves] like

my mom had for her special day.

I haven’t shared this with you yet, but I believe our wedding 

should take place somewhere [stupidly ostentatious]. 

Like a [castle] or like a [villa]. We’re not the type to have

a [destination wedding], but if we were to have one,

let’s host it in [Rome].

I haven’t shared this with you yet, but I think our first

Dance should go to the song [“At Last”] by [Etta James].

And not because my [aunt] did it first, but because I fell 

Hopelessly in love with the lyrics and how [Etta] accurately 

stole the feelings from my heart and made them tangible. 

I haven’t shared this with you yet, but I genuinely think

[My parents] would like you. Even though we grew up 

worlds apart, there’s nothing that will stop your 

Earnestness from shining through. [They] will see that

and rest easy, knowing [their baby girl] is in good hands.

Like I always knew I was.

Little choc’late cat

Rests on our first joint purchase

A teal couch, dreaming 

Of lands filled with boxes which

Brim with bobbles and play things

Beautiful boy I believe

Your business attire

 Won’t hide the heart on your sleeve

You wear your feelings quite well

Darting eyes and hot cheeks

I sit and admire all your lovely tells

Shall I lead you to the bed

What would the boys think?

Does that fill you with sweet dread?

We kiss for a while

As you lie on your back

I sink down low and smile

The more I uncover, the more that I reap

You say you play wolf

Secretly, you like playing sheep

Beautiful boy don’t act so naive

Don’t cover your face

It won’t hide the relief

As I give and you take and receive