Friday, December 31, 2010


it's a simple this, a
sleepy little town
somewhere in north carolina,
somewhere under the
pounds of snow, melting
into ice, fingers
playing hooky from
our gloves under coats;
an unexpected this, a
this that can make the
breastbone warp a little, make
it feel wrapped in worn
wool and warmed between
paper-thin walls...
a this that shows
the cracks in the
foundation, but
doesn't itch to be healed
or plead to be saved; it's
getting lost and leaving
light behind, blazing
trails and burning snow
behind us, border to
border, palm
to palm, minute by
minute, taking the
bus to town and
leaving the luggage in
motels, the only
weight, some
change in our pockets.


Tuesday, December 14, 2010

360 degrees

another year.

another one? how are these days sifting through my fingers like sand through the pinch? when did minutes become milliseconds?

it's been over a year, here in the city. well, brooklyn. MY city. manhattan is what i see from the bridge, what i walk through to get to work, where i perform... brooklyn has been a much kinder friend to me. don't get me wrong... the first time i coached a student in the city, so close to broadway i could smell the desperation in the background dancer's sweat, i realized how much i had dreamt of that moment. how every step of every city i have devoured has led me here, and how one day, i will have my loft drenched in sunlight from massive windows and brick walls.

one day, manhattan, i will come for you. but right now, i'm having an affair with brooklyn, and you will just have to wait.

that's right. you will just have to wait. it feels good to say that and not have it be said to you. to wake up and know that all these decisions are mine and mine alone. i don't have the time to waste on waiting around.

my twenty-eighth birthday was yesterday, and i'm looking ahead with wide eyes and and open palms.

i will grab your hand when i want to. you will wait for me, now.