VAL pt. 1

in the west covina walmart / the city

dimming dark as blackberries / your voice

sweat-damp / in the shimmer

of the frozen foods aisle / i am still

happy / i have been writing

and the sound of the gulls / melancholy

in the harbor / does not enter me

i do not / have friends

who hanged themselves / i do not

have notes / i tell you this because there is

a funeral tomorrow / and all my clothes

have turned to paper / so i am

writing you (i hope) / for polyester

on my knees beneath / a streetlight

the sun a memory / as thin as white sand

i sell it by the handful / here is

august in a saltshaker / will you taste it

here is / last summer if you

remember it at all / i remember

it was my hand with roses / it was my hand

these were the roses / your eyes in the sun

drawn soft as petals / your lashes

brushing the curve of your cheek / my hand

with roses / inside your hair

i buy a truckful of august / to give you

in bursts / until your mouth tastes of salt

your skin when i kiss you / even

the skin where your legs meet / where i

find my hand with / roses

in the marina i am haunted / i am

haunted by the darkness / of stormwater

of rain / of your breath on

the side of my neck / and if it hardens

into snow / if i harden it is for you

when you fall sublime as snow / i am

still happy / i fill your face in blue

even if it is / only a shadow i see

only the vague / outline of a woman

i capture / instead of you

and again it is later / again i do not see you

again your number goes / to voicemail

and again i know where you are / bird-soft

your voice / the sun setting

in the window / of your half-bath

the privacy of a tub / filled not with water

but with cleaning supplies / i hold you

you hold / the shower curtains shut

the music dimming / dark as blackberries

dark as your eyes in the / part-light

slow-crawling across the tile / near flight

LAX in the moonlight / grounded

at midnight / you kick snow

from where the streetcars / used to run

and i touch your face / in the haunting dark

as if it is strange / as if you are a stranger

there is a funeral tomorrow / do you

remember / it is yours

i will wear my big white plastic suit / i will

write to you / would you like that

the streets are moving / they turn to water

here is the moon and here is a river / remember

how the river rings / remember to ask for

your mail / before you go home

remember i know / how your ears fold

back against your head / and i have kissed you

there / (am i the only one)

the surface of the snow / black as carbon

in your hair / i am still happy

to be in love with you / though i love

an ever-girl / and i am still writing

as if you’ll hear it / as if your ears are deep

and i am diving / headfirst through cold water

the bay high-tiding / after the storm

your voice haunting in the dark / the narrow

dark / i am void of starlight

i will wear my big white plastic suit / lie in

bed for days / as the gulls begin

to congregate around me / i tell them that

the funeral is not here / california

does not see the rain / instead the storms

pour out a haunting dark / over santiago, santiago

all your white shirts grey with rain / where

the canyons split / the soft earth

to show skin / pale as spring leaves

pale as the stars in their sky-quiver / the night

june-soft and trembling / a summer

not yet drained of salt / and so i kiss it

from your neck / or so i say

for valentina, 1999-2020.