The First 24

  

  

A birthday surprise 

Cozy restaurant, leaves fall

Bright light, the icing 

~Natalia 

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I Don’t Hear Him

I need more things; what else is true about me? He says, gazing up to where I’m sitting, perched on the table next to his half-empty paper.

They’re to list 20 things, and he’s at 11.

Appearance, hobbies, passions, family.

Well, I say, relishing the one on one time, the quiet conversation with just one, as the other ten buzz and move about the room.

What does God say is true about you? 

He doesn’t look up, which I know does not mean disrespect, but might mean defeat.

I don’t hear Him. He mumbles.

It takes me twice, two repetitions, to understand him, to catch his faint words.

And then, as his child-chubby hands grip his freshly-sharpened pencil,

Oh, honey, let me help you hear. 

~Natalia

You Break Me

You break me, sometimes.

With the way your eyes darken, you brow furrows.

I watch anger descend across your face like the iron gate of a store at closing time, shutting you off.

Or rather, shutting me off from you.

You break me when you check out, when you storm, when you sink into your shoulders and cannot be found.

But what breaks me more,

I realized,

is how you look at me first when something goes wrong.

How your dark eyes find mine when the slightest hiccup occurs,

how you trust me, implicitly, to be able to fix it all,

to make it all better.

An argument, a question about math.

A cut in your finger, a ketchup stain on your pants.

Something too heavy, something not finished.

Something confusing, something forgotten.

You don’t think, you don’t deliberate.

You appear at my side,

you wave your hand urgently,

you call my name.

And that breaks me the most

because I know I’m not enough,

I’ll never be enough.

I’ll never do everything right,

and sometime I won’t be able to fix anything at all.

But your wide, hopeful eyes, waiting for me to solve it all, fix everything,

those eyes bring me to my knees,

right there where I know Who can fix it all.

~Natalia

Last One 

  

First to bed, it’s on

Last to bed, turn the shell off 

I’m always the last. 

~Natalia 

First Dance 

  
Saturday’s first dance 

Song: God Bless the Broken Road 

And aren’t all roads? 

~Natalia 

Airplane Squish 

  
Four days of travel

Then back to reality 

Hello again, bed. 

~Natalia