dancing with myself

i used to be a ballerina. a long time ago.

i quit because i was too thick for tutus.

but i signed up for dance class when

i was a junior in high school. i was

from out of town

and out of place

and out of shape. i figured that intermediate dance would be

an easy A.

the first day of class

i couldn't help but look at you and laugh

you wore spandex shorts that were tight in all the wrong places

hairy legs coupled with hairy arms and hairy eyebrows

your height made your stature bend like a broken sunflower stem

your mounds of dark curls with your thick indian accent

made you the laughing stock of the class

so of course, you would be assigned to be my dance partner.

naturally.

we were a disaster at disco,

there was nothing sexy about our salsa

and your cha cha slide was cha cha sad.

by the time we started the ballet unit, i had given up

but out of nowhere, God blessed you with the gift of grace

your petite jete` was better than mine

you twirled me out of my fouette and i fell back into your arms

we spun around the gym like two brown and black tops

scuffed slippers leaving our marks behind

you graduated that year.

you went to school and we kept in touch. jokes on facebook

about the time you dropped me on my face and we tried

to tell our teacher it was part of our routine. it never got old.

after a few months, the messages decreased.

one day i clicked on your page

and your friend said you were in the hospital

diagnosed with brain cancer.

my roommate picked me up off the floor after i passed out.

i signed up to take a dance class a few weeks later. i walked in the

door.

everyone was properly dressed.

they all looked limber and relaxed and trained.

no eyebrows that needed to be plucked.

no inappropriate jokes. no one broke out into a pseudo split.

no one was like you. so i left.

i sent you messages.

when you felt well enough to read them, you responded.

you said you were losing alot of your hair due to the chemo.

and that when we danced again, your forcefield of fur

wouldn't get in the way. only you could make chemo funny.

i laughed. for you.

last summer, you went into remission. i couldn't have been happier.

this summer, the cancer spread to your lungs. i couldn't believe it.

this tuesday morning, you died. i can't comprehend still.

you danced on to a different dimension

a place that your partner can't find you.

where your crooked smile and spandex shorts

don't matter.

i prayed you'd save the last dance for me

but you've gone backstage, around the corner

and on to the final show

performing for an audience that will applaud for an eternity

after i heard the news that you passed

i went downstairs to a mirrored room with bars.

i danced.

moves i hadn't done in years i performed fluidly

i spun like a top, fouette after fouette

dancing with myself

only one half of our pair

leaving marks on the linoleum floor

like we had done 5 years before

your swan song was beautiful

but i have to, i need to see more

and i'm begging for an encore

i'm begging for an encore

the triumvirate.

the triumvirate

three years ago a balmy night in august

the three of us were cooped up in a tent

we hadn't taken a chemistry test to fail yet

and we didn't know what slow grinds were

but i remember laying next to angelica

and falling asleep on michael thinking

what the hell had i gotten myself into

and three years later we have been through

every argument imaginable

and every possible incident known to man

but at the end of the day

or at the middle of the night, rather,

we're willing to pitch a tent and do it all over again

falling asleep soundly to the slumber of the other two

there were days that i thought we'd never

speak again let alone sleep again

in the space vicinity but our friendship

the triumvirate is battle tested

when we fall out we never fall apart

we become some sort of impenetrable force

i've learned not to question God's plan and

why he led me to these two and why

we've stuck through it all the way we do but

i'm me. i'm ashley. for having known the two of you

michael snores but he'd never admit it

and angie tosses more than she tends to believe

but these odds and ends of three years of

chaos

and bliss

are nothing but familiar lullabies

that sooth my soul

when days like today wear me out

i'm blanketed in a quilt of friendship

spread over the three of us

God's got it under control

13 / 20 : say say say.

back from dc. crazy weekend. poet trees time.

say say say

i don't know where to begin

i don't know what to say

say

say

to you except that you

make

everything seem so simple

and easy

even a woman as incomprehensible

as me

and i don't know what to say

when it comes to my exboyfriends

and i don't know what to say

when it comes to my family's lifestyle

and i don't know what to say

when it comes to my love for arena rock

but i feel like

whenever i do figure out what to say

say

say

you'll listen with open ears

open heart

and you'll invite me in

12 / 30 : i dreamed a dream.

dc today.

i dreamed a dream

i dreamed a dream of a life worth living

and to see it go up in smoke

puff puff pass

with just one

wrong move

tears my soul in two

is there any way i can

text l. hughes and ask him

what happens to a dream

deferred

11 / 30 : ice cream paint job.

at work. i got the heat on because it makes me feel like i have a blanket on. and the residents seem to enjoy it when they walk in soooooo. that's good.

ice cream paint job

i'm sitting at work only sort of paying attention

to what i'm being paid to do because

i have the heat on 80 degrees to cover me

like a blanket

i look outside the window to see the sky

arched with orange and pinks

speckles of purple and blue graffiti blasted on

this canvas above my head God must

be feeling extremely creative and as

the minutes roll by the background changes

the colors blend in to each other as He mixes

and blends and rolls his paint above my head the

colors are so dense i feel that drop of rich red will

fall on my head like rain

i must look like a complete idiot

with my mouth hanging open staring at the sky

but i think it's even crazier

that they aren't even looking up

at all

10 / 30 : you don't know my name.

4 papers due today. i'm a beast. i'm a dog. i'm sleepy.

you don't know my name

it's funny how you could know me almost

biblically

from the hairs that stand up on my head

alpha

to the the curvature in my heels

omega

but

it's funny that when our paths finally cross

you just shoot

me a wink and

you just shoot

a half hearted smile

so i'm

i'm laying on the ground with a chest pelted with

wayward bullets

you're killing me

and all the same you don't even

know my name

9 / 30 : beautiful.

i'm squatting here waiting for a vandy van. just finished a paper in the commons since i cant write in my room and i was helping jess unbraid her hair/provide comic relief. anyway, yeah.

beautiful

every time you see me you tell me i look

beautiful

and i can't help but blush and say

thank you

i'm usually quick with a witty retort

or i have

some smart ass comment to dispel but

you look at me like

you really believe that i looked

beautiful

last night

i've been given many compliments in my life

from many men at

various occasions but

the sincerity in your smile and

the way your eyes met mine

it was thirty four degrees outside

and it's been 20 degrees inside my heart

for awhile now but you've come along like

an early spring

thawing me out and bringing color to my days

making everything

and me

seem

beautiful

again