i want to know the name of the artist
that painted my picture because he got it all wrong
he painted me confused lost in a new place with unfamiliar faces and maybe
a little lonely
he painted me curious wandering in an orchard trying to taste every fruit
before i went back to my favorite tree
he painted me with two contrasting colors and the critics wondered why
he didn’t just pick blue
he painted me and somehow i grew a new face
and everyone that sees me next to my painting squints
and tries to reconcile the two
but it doesn’t work because this is my picture
and he painted it wrong
he painted me wrong

they said treat your body like a temple
treat it like a church they said
but they didn’t realize every night in bed
i prayed to god in my head
why why help me please
and he never answered not once
did the morning light shine bright enough
to forget the night’s vandalism
the broken glass the red spray paint writing
if i am a church then this congregation
has left me broken 

the other day i realized that my mom was right to be concerned
that my mom had thought this through before i even told her she knew
that living each day for your smiles would eventually end in tears
because my family is strong and we are all for one and one for all
as long as i take a prince to the ball one day i will walk down an aisle in white
and i will stare into your eyes so i don’t see the empty seats so i don’t count
the missing faces in the crowd i don’t understand how love
can be offensive how families can be conditional how people are so openly
close-minded it hurts and i don’t understand it and mom you were right
it’s going to be hard but i don’t believe that this is wrong i can’t afford
to think that way so on my wedding day i won’t think of the people that i’ve lost
but how we’ll love our family, no holds barred, no conditions, no cost

we like to believe that
those thoughts will go away
if we forget where the scars came from
if we forget the sight of white skin
blooming red like roses
we like to believe that
life will slow down long enough
for us to catch our breath
but morning always dawns again
and light always breaks on the broken
until night falls on fresh ink
you want lilies, please
you’ve seen enough red roses

a year later we were still setting a place 
for you at the table and still calling you 
at the store 
we still thought of ourselves as seven
instead of six and made breakfast in bed
on mother’s day 
a year later you were not forgotten 
you were not lost to us
we were lost without you 
but you wanted us to dance at your funeral 
and laugh on your birthday 
so last night at dinner we thought of you
and put your plate away

and in that moment
your eyes made me beautiful
beyond measure beyond doubt
my insecurities shattered, scattered
like our clothes on the floor
like the lock on my door
turned with a click 
and sealed with a kiss

i want to be the eyelash
on your cheek
the lucky dandelion
that holds your secret wish
and feels your breath’s kiss
to fly away forever
in the beauty of your dreams
never lonely, never sad
with your hopes surrounding me 

the bus doors open to let in
a rush of pollenated air
a litany of sorry and
excuse me and sorry again
streams out
everyone shuffles together
at the bus driver’s
keep moving back people
and we all enjoy our first
genuine touch of the day
shoulder to shoulder
we sway as one, 
trust falling with strangers