Tag Archives: husband

When We Are Here

daddyandson

Somewhere, ages ago now
I was setting sail on bones and ash,
catching the wind with an old t-shirt,
watching you and everything I knew
turn doll-size in the distance.

Miles had spread at a viral rate
by the time I went overboard and you

you

were already there to buoy me back to shore,
to refill my chest with all the reasons there were to stay
and when I opened my eyes all I noticed was the
brilliant orange of the sun as it left us.

So I’ve been using all your edges to keep me upright
but you’ve never seemed to mind (you’re too busy
seeing me in some post-apocalyptic calm, something
I cannot), you who chooses over and over to
stand out in the rain with me.

It’s all so surreal now, way back behind us,
and it feels like someone else’s temporary sorrow
when we are here, cradling the shiny newness of a
living, breathing thing that has your mouth, my chin, your nose.

It is almost impossible to think how simple
a decision it was, to look into your eyes, nod, press my mouth,
my body to yours and suddenly we were changed.

I think I’ll spend forever thanking you.

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I Came Back Broken

weddingmotorcycle

One morning I left, kissed you goodbye

in the sun to the humming of a lawn mower,

your coffee mug carried some motivating script.

 

I returned, same sunset, different Thursday

so often snagged on repeat in our heads

I took my boots off in the foyer,

I left them in the middle of the floor

you tripped dramatically as you

looked at them, looked at me,

I’d came back broken and you knew it.

 

But you didn’t

fold your hands in your lap

didn’t call your mother for advice,

leave the room when I entered,

whispered pleas,

what do I do

will she come back.

 

Instead you lifted me

beneath the arms,

placed my feet on top of yours,

I placed my cheek on your armor-chest

and we marveled and swayed

falling together in and out

of sun and moonlight.

 

I fell asleep, eventually

and you held your breath

you let me rest,

when I opened my eyes again

I tried to stand but

my heart was woven too deeply into yours.

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Him

 

josef

 

you are

unreasonable elegance in common ranges of motion; you make flipping through the channels a five-star event, poised like a GQ photograph with your sneakers on the coffee table, sourdough pretzel crumbs shining like diamonds in the week old sweater on your cheeks, graying, you don’t care, and neither do I even though I say I do. when you’re gossiping you lift the end of each sentence like a New York City mobster, like a padre calling his bambini with a fat cigar burning in his mouth, and I am tempted to kiss you. that knife you use for everything gleams like a sword from the back pocket of your jeans, I laugh as you pull it out to cut the unruly thread from my t-shirt, slip it away again as graceful as a cowboy in a showdown; I smile at the way I call you home in all of the minuscule ways you cushion my existence. spoiled as a thick faced child I am always tight-roping the wire of your gratefulness; i love you, remember.

and I am

living in the most lush of gardens; reds, reds and golds, they’re all I see.

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Pure. Bliss.

Well, the craziness is over. The planning, the praying for sunny weather, the hope that all goes smoothly, the anticipation of stepping into a whole new level of awesomeness with the man I love. The weather was perfect (a monsoon set in the following day!), the alcohol flowed, tears and laughter were in abundance, and wearing black meant whatever was spilled on my dress that day – well, who the hell cares.

Friends, I return to you as a married woman.

joe&i

Isn’t he the cutest? Those suspenders! ::swoon::

Things were relatively intimate – about 75 people flowed in and out of our home and backyard that day. And what better place to hold our special day than the very place we are building our life together? (My dad totally put up that fence in 2 days. Need a fence? Let me know.)

All the bawling I did didn’t even make my eyeliner run! The red lipstick on the other hand….let’s just say Joe was rockin’ the Joker look at the end of the ceremony.

I couldn't help but do way too much of THIS.

I couldn’t help but do way too much of THIS.

Some hilarious – and awkward – speeches were made from our best friends and family, and I even managed to make my father cry. Twas the best day EVER.

Like our toasting flutes?

Like our toasting flutes?

So in love with our cake.

So in love with our cake.

And now the really fun part begins; spending the rest of my days with my best friend.

xoxo

tears

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