How deep will you get?
by Tamar Weir
looking at the world through your stained windows
its a sunday morning so you’ve opened up the blinds
all is there for you to see
but you’re only 20, life is happening to you
but it has only just begun, and eyes closed
makes it seem easier
the false illusion of simplicity
and days of resting on various couches
with different drinks in hand
fleeing to a different moment
stillness, patience, consciousness, not so constant
because with that,
time is of the essence
time for processing
time for careful decision making
time for spontaneous non-decision making,
time to be still
nothing is constant
cannot push it to be so.
slowly over looking at my mom’s eyes
I see myself in the shine of her pupils
dark seems to be black
but only with light does the black shine bright
mommy’s eyes tell stories
that I’ve only dreamt of
never felt in my body, not like this at least.
feeling it in my body,
I do not need your approval.
you are valid?
that’s what he tells me.
no confusion, machismo, ego. I know it’s there somewhere.
am I pushing?
I know how you love me.
was it all the breakfasts that kept you coming
or was it the questioning?
mom taught me how to ask, why?
no punishment for the maybes and refusals to
simply say yes or no.
No one teaches the children to.
kindergarten is for playing.
why blue why green why red
be who they want you to be.
using all the whys and hows
how can I know every part of your body
without the questions
Elaborate. I think.
Tamar use your words. I deeply think.
he came from somewhere,
I’m from the suburbs a few hours away
white families with pools
lining the streets and avenues
distance will not separate us
although distance might have wanted to.
distance brought us together
learned habits acquired with time
mine different from all of yours
but the flow of verbal confirmations
stares, unite us to the present
water makes us collide,
as you steal my wave, or an attempt to shove
the patterns of the wind
and my uneasy stance pushes me into the water
the water feels safe, as it surrounds all our soles
the wet suit feels warm, as it starts to become
it might be cold outside
but with our shower beers in hand
and the yellow brick along the shower
I don’t feel a bit cold
wherever we came from brought us here
where we can turn on the hot water
and feel the comfort of looking at each other.