[Move]

I couldn't sleep last night, so I ended up watching a lot of spoken word. I came across one by Andrea Gibson called "How It Ends" that moved me to a moment of silent reflection--a reaction that, in me, is stronger than being moved to tears. That poem, along with the quilt I'm (still!!!) working on and that magical time in the earliest morning wherein all my thought take on a poetic feel, all worked together to formulate this.  It doesn't have the right title just yet, or the right ending, and I've left all the 2am typos on it. But here you have it. Enjoi.


When you left, I started sewing, because there was nothing else to do.
See, i'm the kind of girl who has to do something.  Always on the move, always going places, my pistures are always a blur of mtion because i'm always going by. and for 17 months + change, you were my goings and comings and doings. You were the sneakers i wore only because they fit so well when i ran. you were the band on the elliptical in my living room and the thump-thump-thump-thump of my feet falling on it, the rhythm that matched our hearts when we pressed them, bare chests heaving warm excited with the forbiddenness of this, together. and you were always there for me to run on, even when i had to put you off and go on with my life, with my classes and the crappy job i keep, you were there to call every night, right at nine, calling every half hour until i decided i could pick up the phone. you were therre to hear about the boss from hell and less-than-sane co-workers and not being listened to--much less valued--much less cared for--much less known. you were there to take some of my muchness, the very bigness of the life in me that i could never fit into this tiny moving body ,and that I could never quite burn off the way i did so many pounds that one spring. you were there.
and then you weeren't. i had no smiles to taste, no arms to holld, no shoulders to ride on, no skin to love. i had nothing, to keep me warm those sultry summmer nights, but your voice in messages that i still can't think to earse, and sense memories of your arms around me, always holding me too tight but damned if i ever said so because i loved it. i had nothing to move me anymore. i didn't have to go pick you up, be nice to your friends, check my makeup for you, make your coffee, read your books, wear your shirt, come when you told me you missed me, come when you told me you wanted me, i didn't have to move anymore.
But see, I am the kind of girl who has things to do. I got up the next morning and went to school. i went to work. And I Needed something to keep me warm, because you were gone. It has taken me almost five months, but i am finishing a blanket that you have not yet seenm not yet lain on, not yet covered in the scent of you and I and our loving. I am moving again, and this time, I will keep moving and stay warm.