and we
won't just
  survive
    but we'll
      thrive till
        we're five
           and make
              peace with
                 our hearts
                     till we're
                         feeling
                              alive
                                   and my
                                        puppy-
                                               eyed
                                                     lover
                                                            will talk
                                                                   to the
                                                                          sky and
                                                                               we'll drift
                                                                                      through the
                                                                                              night till
                                                                                                      we're free

You were a freelancer
which makes sense looking back.
Your approach to your craft
mirrored how you treated your knickknacks.
A menagerie of numbers in your contacts;
how you picked and chose who to call back.

I wonder if you ever felt ashamed
in those brief periods of idleness.
Did your hands grow restless?
Which notification was most missed?
I’m pretty positive
it wasn’t mine.

I wear makeup to work,
So people treat me better.

I work with fish.
I get covered in slime.
I don't make tips.
(Not that, that is acceptable)
I have a fiance.
I'm off market.
I'm not there to impress anyone.

No makeup.
I'm ignored.
My credentials are questioned more.
They pick fights.
They behave poorly.

With makeup well,
I only have to deal with one creepy person.

I wear makeup to work,
So people treat me better.

It’s been so long
I didn’t recognize the
number on the call.
You asked if I wanted
to catch up, I should’ve
just hung up.
- blocked.

let us
do only all the things we wish we could, if our lust and love was not so secret.

not just dream but see, touch and taste the mossy nectar of our wavy
pinkish, glistening seas
above and
beneath an ocean of silken sheets.

-By Alexandra Eames