being married
to your best friend
makes all your evenings
silly little sleepovers
kip
April 12, 2023
it’s Kip Day
a big b-day
(but don’t call it that)
a day for celebrating a Kip
for all of us being the Kips we want to be
and for sparkly rocks—-
it’s Kip Day!
April 10, 2023
a hassle-day
often brings the kips
closer
(even if they have to go through so much
stress/angst/shakes/tears to get there)
we are always on the same team
February 14, 2023
i haven’t really thought of
Valentine’s Day
in so long.
as a child it merely meant i’d probably get candy
that day
in school
(which, i’ll admit, was pretty cool).
as a teen,
highly aware of my own diverging sexuality,
i only saw loud reinforcements of
heteronormativity
and having that binaried bullshit shoved down my throat.
with Kip, the year they wooed me, they sent four presents
on one Valentine’s
(keep in mind we were not even officially dating at that point)
a song
a string of lights
a website
and origami roses.
and yes, we used to go to the melting pot,
or grab oysters,
or have some sort of dinner;
but COVID and coziness
and now our Valentimes look more like any other time.
but i don’t worry
because we still get excited in the morning to say
“Happy Valentine’s Day!!!”
to each other
December 20, 2022
ten years ago
i
was bored at my home
ten years ago
i
felt community thirty minutes away
(at a college i never attended)
ten years ago
i
called out to my friends to see
if anyone would be
excited for me
to come hang out that evening
ten years ago
i
happened to [re-]meet the love of my life
and this time we were both ready
available
and actually looking
pondering each other for
conquest
and connection
but
it is not this day that we count
as our official anniversary
ten years ago today
was a preamble
a flirtation
a stuttering step towards
a beginning
tomorrow
will be the actual anniversary:
that post-midnight
that coming together
that “end of the world”
that, even if it did actually end,
and this is all a simulation in someone else’s head,
at least we got a chance to meet and be together
ten years ago
the best thing that ever happened to me
was
you
and for the past ten years
that has continued
to be
true
July 21, 2022
listening to lovely music
(modern classical, in case you’re interested)
chatting with my Kip over coffee
about workers and wages
and contemporary conveniences
and whether ‘nobody wants to work anymore’ rhetoric
came out of union slander
or not
a regular morning in this
household
May 13, 2022
poets
are supposed to be
sentimental
romantical
(or so society says)
their best works coming
from falling
head over heels over head
over and over and over again
with people/with person/with newfound loving
but i count myself a poet
(as strange as it still feels
internally;
but
you can’t do something
every day
for over a year
and not get to take that label)
and i suppose i feel
sentimental
romantical
but without the drama
without the dire feelings
without the falling/
not knowing/
which way is up/
will there be ground when i fall/
will it cushion or strike/
a final blow/
so/
i feel like my poems aren’t the romantical kind
most people expect
but i’ve had nearly ten years with you,
six of those legally wed
(straight out of a time i thought that’d never be a thing)
(planning a wedding when you don’t know which state
will abate
the legality of your love
is an…interesting experience, to say the least)
and we skipped most societal standards,
no first/second/third date rules,
just us, sharing our personal traumas
amid late night kisses
and early morning apple juice;
a first “date” lasting damn near 24 hours
(and only a previous commitment kept it
from just extending
ad inifinitum
as many sapphic first dates go)
a one night stand
turned to talking
and magnetic-felt pulling
until we collapsed our expectations,
shed our ‘no [new] relationship rules’
and went from officially dating
to quietly engaged
in four months
flat
and each month after
i’ve learned from you
and grown with you,
and we’ve had great times
and incredibly hard times,
quiet times
and a few loud times,
but most of the time
it’s simply
comfortable-being-with-you times.
i love our co-[in]dependence
that we’ve come into on our own terms.
and that year [+] where we could only see each other
was such a welcome gift.
and even though nothing is ever promised,
i can see my future more clearly
with you
than i’ve ever seen it before,
and i know
when we’re ghosts
we’ll finally be able to cuddle the way we want
bypassing physical boundaries
and feeling that closeness we yearn for
in every tight tight hug…
we were wed
6 years ago on this day
so i suppose that’s why
today
i’m feeling
sentimental
[and a bit romantical]
but also
sentimentality sneaks up on me
most days
that i get to see you
across the table from me
working on your programming
while i write stanzas of free-form poetry,
or when we’re apart
and i feel the heartbeat vibration
of my phone telling me it’s you texting me
little words of love
or collections of memes sent as a love language all its own
or getting ready for bedtime
in this house we’ve made a home
with our adorable little family
and the comfort of us
just being
[together]
i’m sentimental for you
in a way i never thought i’d be
and i must admit
i’m grateful for it,
my Kip.
April 26, 2022
last night, Kip had a dream about Louka
and i had a dream about Computer
and they were both pretty good dreams;
nothing special,
just things that we’ve already done:
introducing Louka to babies
(and how calm and good she was with tiny humans)
and playing with Computer and her rope-fox
(and how excited she gets to run around the house and play and play and play).
and i want to dream about Louka,
i want to be able to touch her soft, soft fur again,
and feel her warmth,
stroke her skull,
and flap her ears,
pick up all sixty pounds of her,
run down inclines with her,
and calmly walk up roads,
see her soaking up the sun,
nuzzle my face into her
and soak up her good dog scent,
squeeze her paws,
and have her head rest on top of my leg,
feel her running/dancing legs as she sleeps
and listen to her dream barks.
my heart aches for Louka…
but at the same time, my heart is filled with this tiny puppy,
this little bundle of joy
(behind a very serious face)
this dog so young, she has no idea how to walk on a leash,
but so smart she’s already learned sit, lie down, and high-five
(the trick Louka taught herself),
i love her grumbles as she pulls at her toys,
and her whines as she stares at the cat
wanting so desperately to meet/play with her
(the cat is not at all ready,
yet),
i love how much this puppy destroys things
with her sharp puppy teeth
and how goofy she acts
when given ice cubes
(the only way Louka would get water sometimes),
and there’s a lot of things that seem like we’re
picking up where Louka left off,
but enough things are so damn different
with this tiny puppy
that it feels so cleansing.
i don’t know how my heart does it,
holds so much pain and grief
and yet so much love and newness
at the exact same time,
but my heart feels so achey
and so full.
and i thank both Louka and Computer
(and Mowgli for the interim/her bedtime cuddles/her insistent meows
so i pay attention to her and not the sadness)
and my Kip
for balancing me out
always.
February 2, 2022
2-2-22
[two, two, two two]
and groundhog day
is my delight of fun dates lessened
because i’m no longer in a class where
writing the date is required,
and i no longer have dozens of other students around me
commenting on the weirdness/wonder-ness
of the date
let’s see if i can get that same high
just from spousal conversation;
the delighted “ah!”
akin to the noise [i’d believe] would come
out of the mouth of a baby velociraptor
that just emitted from my blue-haired spouse’s mouth
has made up for
years
without classmates
(and years with)
and how wonderful that i get to live this life
with this Kip
(especially since,
when i was a child in those classrooms,
i was sure,
absolutely, 100% convinced
that i would never be partnered
because my ‘weird’ was too much
for anyone else to love
(and also because, you know, the trauma,
and deals i made with myself
to avoid giving love to another
who may end up leaving me)
and yes, tomorrow isn’t guaranteed
but i now have hundreds of these morning page poems
each encapsulating a memory,
most across a giant, cluttered table,
writing early morning musings
while my spouse does the same
(or programs)
(or peruses the internet)
(or writes emails)
and those mornings turn into days
of silly moments during work hours
stealing a kiss because we missed each other,
and evenings of silly videos
or deep conversations
or delicious meals
or tight cuddles
or cat-hassling
or meandering dog walks
(oftentimes most or all of the above)
and baby HJ never thought they’d encounter
a human being
who could love them so much
warts (and tears) (and weirds) and all.
December 30, 2021
the balance
of yin and yang
(Kip and Kip)
is to have the one
be
stressed out of their mind
working all day
(during vacation)
snappy,
trappy,
not happy,
and the other
enjoying
Repair Shop
and
audiobooks
and leisurely cross-stitching
all damn day…
~~~
went to bed
with an ache
that could have been the universe
reaching into me
to warn me
of something devastating approaching
or
it could have been
empathic absorption
of my spouse’s stress.
(when will i find out which?)
~~~
no,
please don’t eat the chocolate,
or the dog’s food,
or sleep on needles,
or rub yourself all around in cedar spray
or-
-what did i just say about the chocolate?!
[this cat]
kipventures 