After a long walk, I decide you are my token animal which I place on my bedside table. The happiest times in my life I have dreamed of dolphins. Whales, too. But the man did not carve whales only dolphins and he made it out of the hardest wood possible and I said, Good, and thought of your heart.
After a long shower, I am told to pray. Not told per se because I felt a light-bubble in my heart and on average light bubbles don’t talk. They burst. Exploded, but in a nice way like the first time I held your hand and thought maybe I could explode in Central Park. It was cold. So I took you in for some soup near the Plaza and all I could think about was why you wouldn’t look me in the eyes.
After a long prayer, my knees go numb from the carpet and my nose had a burn on it and I tried not the imagine how many particles of bugs I inhaled. My hair is growing longer and with it, my strength.
After I can’t go to sleep past my bedtime, I wonder if I will dream of dolphins again. I should have taken out the trash. I could spend more time alone in the mountains and watch a super moon rise and maybe I’d dream I was exploding in an ocean. As though my body was a bridge to where you want to go, but can’t.
After I tried to mend the curtains which had fallen, I sat in the middle of my room, naked and happy I could do that. My biggest flaws are being shown to me by way of not eating breakfast and almost fainting in the afternoon like I’m some kind of mystic with iron deficiency. I want to love the whole world and be a better person but I end up focusing on my weight instead. This is not an unusual problem for a woman in her twenties who has no real problems in her life. I am grateful to be ordinary.
After a long walk, I decide you are my token animal which is a dolphin made of the hardest wood to carve. Which means someone spent a long time crafting you which means I will never throw it into the sea or a river or any other body of water thinking I wasted any time loving you the best way I know how.
After a long shower I am clean and my mind loves me and the world and everything in it even when I’m sad or impatient or careless light-bubble-deaf and do not pray for what I need. Which means, I need nothing and have arrived at my death happy to have been here at all, with flowers and such in my hand, having failed and fallen and risen again.