“I find myself feeling” by Sasha in the Airbnb

Friday January 24, 2020
5 minutes
Gathering Indigo
Algeria Jensen

We land and it’s raining
as it will be for the next twenty three days
or at least
that’s what the forecast says
if you trust the long term forecast

which you shouldn’t

but do.

The salty mountain air hits me
a memory of leaving this place
ravaged and split open
a memory of how small her body was then
pressed against mine
pressed against the space where the split was.

I find myself feeling
there and here
then and now
holding my phone up to take a selfie
her body doubled in size

We make the same face
little wonder
I laugh
she laughs
a bit of seaweed on her chin.

It’s good to return to where things came undone
where she was born
where salt met salt
where water met water
where bone melted to butter
alchemized that which might’ve never been released,
where some of what we grew is buried in an old growth forest.

It’s good to return to this place
in the place we are now
kiss where the burns are
where the burns were,
kiss the earth and feel
the quake of whatever
is yet to come.

“the channeling of heavenly love” by Julia at her dining table

Tuesday November 8, 2016
5 minutes

But of course he’ll leave before we resolve anything because he wasn’t meant to stay. He didn’t pack anything for overnight. He didn’t bring a toothbrush or his stamina to fight. He didn’t want to get cozy in the curve of me because he was afraid he would want to stay and he couldn’t stay. He had already committed to his other life and I was not welcome in that one. I had to ask him, Why Did You Come Back Then? And he told me, I Felt A Pull On My Heart Like I Was A Puppet and I Couldn’t Lead My Own Way. I asked, What Kind Of Pull? A Cosmic One? The Kind You Have In A Dream? He told me, It Was The Channeling of Heavenly Love And It Made Me Want To Find The Source. But of course he’ll leave before we both understand what that means, and of course he won’t consider that the source is quite obviously me.

“We take care of you” by Sasha on the subway going East

Tuesday June 11,2013
5 minutes
The blackboard in front of The Good Neighbour Espresso Bar

I’m glad that you’re back. When you got on that train, the earth turned grey, the sky turned grey and the clouds silently cried, just like me. My cry wasn’t exactly silent, but it was grey. It’s strange, though. I started making plans. I started sewing again, recycling things I didn’t like and making them into things I did. I used the record player. When you used to say, “Live in the moment,” I thought that that meant “Don’t make plans.” What that meant, to me, was never leaving this place. Was moving from one thing to another like a ghost and not looking further than my toes. “You’re not a leader,” my father used to say, taking off his uniform and reaching for his can of beer. It’s true. He was right. But there’s power in the following. That’s how change actually happens, when one person and then another and another, start following the leader. I’m glad you’re back, I really am. I’m not going to follow you anymore, though. When you left, when you got on that train with your briefcase and your lunchbag, I was suddenly free to look up. I was suddenly free to think about Barcelona, and my sister’s wedding next summer, and how I’d like to learn to french braid.