These are the hands of every person who helped me through it

Everyone has a color 

I know you know that

Soldier

With no ulterior motive

I wish I could apologize for

Cutting your legs off over & over again all those years 

She has found needle and thread I see 

Sewn them back on 

Sturdier then before

You both stand together now 

trees full of wind

(I'm so glad)

Lately there seems to be 

Not 

One

Free

Moment 

We have bagged the entire contents of our home and removed it

Drywall

Dust

Literal walls

Wood

Wood

Wood

Closets

And put it outside to be taken away. 

We took a perfectly good house and destroyed it to make it exactly what we want 

_what repentance feels like

You 

Are not a bad person. 

You

Have done bad things. 

Take them all. Write them down. And walk the opposite direction so that maybe you have a chance. Maybe he will no longer hurt you if he decides to do the right thing. Maybe you will be able to cry about letting another man have you. 

Then maybe the two of you can walk arm in arm again. Broken. Dirty. 

Flawless.

Not about your sister

Like a piece of leather 

Sharp and tight

Like your body 

Everything on you is in the right place and I am wearing a wrinkled jacket that i was excited about, a TShirt and boots that I've had for far too long but they're pointed and so I felt fashionable enough 

What.

Will I fit in here? 

Can I bring some sense of normalcy here? Authenticity? 

Am I judging you by even asking these questions somehow putting myself above you

When really how I feel is 

Not good enough 

Ugly

Frumpy

Like a cozy sweater 

And hair that just saw sand on a beach 

An introduction of sorts

Mostly it was the scones. 

You may think I'm joking but I'm serious. That and the way the sun bounced off everything on the kitchen table, the way the flowers leaned in lightly toward the window with their waists in water... The rummaging of children beneath our feet and babies on knees and morning breath and the steam of coffee. The way Jeannies homemade granola tasted with yogurt and the light color blue that had licked the entire kitchen. 

But mostly, once our hearts became deeply connected, once we had each learned to practice this rythmn of meeting, we discovered  we weren't lonely & we found, with time, a deep satisfaction. 

You can be married and still lonely we discovered. And lonely is a strong word, as each of us were surrounded with people and family who loved and cared but there was something we all yearned for. Maybe it was just the scones. 

We were careful to admit it: that there was something at this table that felt necessary, something that we had been missing. The words came out slowly like dripping and we said them with caution so as not to say we weren't happy or that our husbands weren't amazing or that God wasn't enough. They are recklessly enough. & we were passionately happy. but I think we all found, the four of us, at that table, that

Women need women. 

Katie and Andrew

With this love may you say 

I want you

When the grass is tall and untamable 

I want you still 

When the red takes leaves with its paint and pulls them slowly to the ground 

When you are winter Over and Over and You look at him and say I'm glad you are my home 

When the flowers are such vulnerable seeds with no color

children in the soil 

This is when I want you

And no more 

And all the time 

Katie and Andrew may your love be always and incredibly full of patches as your love will cover ever hole that could devistate until you are mosaics and the patches are remarkable 

Ron

He is a plum with legs 

If I were to describe how to treat him when I leave I'd ask you please never raise his price, he will only be in your chair for fifteen minutes 

He will never ask for a shampoo

And he will tell you about the wood he chops, the lawn work his wife has for him or the trip to Florida where he watches baseball with his son

He will change his schedule during golf season

Take the length carefully up in the back, just along the edge of his scar (you'll see where there were stitches) 

When your on the right side of him talk loudly, he has lost hearing in that ear 

And do not forget to trim the braidable strands of eyebrow hair whose texture is that of Asian noodles 

And never tell him i said he is like a plum because I mean it in the most endearing way but he may take offense

It's a funny thing 

I thought I was in charge but 

I am not in charge of the blush tone in my cheeks just now 

I thought I left that color years ago 

There she was 

In my home 

Anxious 

Small

But made him feel like everything except 

The taxidermy version of himself 

He wanted to be with you in every room 

And every hour 

Of the house 

Homer, Alaska

All of it reminded me of Michigan 

Besides the taste of salt in the water 

The smooth rocks that lay in place of sand 

The cheekbones and hips of mountains napping along the horizon, 

And the ever so often moose

Grazing without caution

Outside my window pane 

Sometimes it hurts how blessed I am 

Like an incision

Or a fever 

I'm afraid that someday it will harm me 

And remind me of how good I had it

How ungrateful I was 

I feel like I'm missing the suffering I always imagine is right around the corner 

Last night though

He reminded me of his name 

"I am Comforter" 

I heard 

And all of this goodness seems to equate with a good good Father 

But I'm just afraid if it's ever bad I will forget how to trust his goodness

Painting is therapy

I propped them up 

All of them the color of a garden 

Hung them tightly on nails and screws along brick

And left 

They each are gardens of my hours 

Countries of my sadness

Embarrassment 

Anxiety wound up carefully in linseed oil and pigment 

Brushed ever so lightly onto a canvas made of cotton 

Duck fabric 

Gesso

You may think you're looking at a buffalo 

Really you are looking at the color of the house by our river

The arm of the water stretched beside it

An argument I resolved with the color coral 

And prayer on prayer on prayer

Forgiveness

If I could find words for you theyd feel stretched thin like skin over a pregnant torso

Maybe I am afraid of your silence back. 

I am pregnant with things to say 

But everything is scrambled 

And I can't seem to find needle and thread to put words in a row like soldiers 

Something I'm usually so good at doing. 

I hope you do know

I forgive you 

I love you

I am sorry it turned out this way. 

Yellow

It is the hardest color to get off of people

To get off of me 

Jesus taught us how 

When he came on a donkey instead of the horse

Usually your name has shucked itself across my mouth as if it is a curse 

Uncomfortable in nature 

Like a piece of bark rubbed across my tongue 

I'm sorry for this I don't quite know how to change it I'm trying 

He reminded us that it should become like cursive 

No matter what the situation

His disappointment does not call for name change

And so you are still family 

Though I still do not know how to be in the same room with you 

_Lord teach me

When you are pressed tightly up against something for so many years 

Yes, it is true

The color rubs off onto you

But it doesn't change your organs

__not an excuse 

But you were wrong

Sometimes grief takes all of your air 

Like a man with hands that fit perfectly around your neck and only releases right at the end when you are almost gone 

You think to yourself 

He had me once 

He won't come again

I had my turn 

Anniversary

You are not my first draft 

You are my last and my first 

You must be the one to extract the teeth of my fear and read on and on about where I best grow and experiment with These roots 

The sun the shade the amount of water that will help me grow firm and strong and proud and colorful 

For this I am both glad and sorry 

Sorry that it will be hard 

That I have not had the time yet to take out the kinks of my fabric

That life has not been a hot enough iron to smooth me

That the water has not run over my edges enough times 

But 

I am glad that we will be a parade of messy years by the end 

And I am sure your hand will still be in mine