chrissy.city
my city, my rules
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D-d-d-dear.
I wake up thinking about this specific sensation, with the immediate urge to put words to it
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Could’ve been a genius 🎧
Was that really the way of it, she wonders?
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Come take your toll
You say, “You can’t tell me what to do,” as I sign for the check, “But I’d actually like it if you did.”
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The Limpkin
and what of the Limpkin, roaming in Little Bay Lake.Â
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believe while I tremble
“That feeling of needing to escape whatever present situation you’re in? It’s not just distraction. It’s your nervous system chronically under or overwhelmed, never quite landing anywhere that feels right.”
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my city, my
Every season there’s a different thing to sweep off the second story deck.
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Protected: Grip Strength
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
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february snow moon
earlier, I had watched two anhingas dive and swim and furl and unfurl their long necks
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Protected: Tea & Sympathy
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
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Rana
Because Rana sees me too, and calls my dog a sweetheart, I have an enormous smile when I tell her
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The category is: body
I first noticed my inner peace with my body in 2014, three weeks into a regular yoga practice in a studio that rewarded our heated classes with ice-cold, lavender-soaked washcloths in savasana.
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Thought Carousel
We’ve pushed the bed to the sliding glass door again so we can wake up in the sunshine.
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Under an Ultramarine Sky
I gaze instead at the pretend night sky, with its realistic star patterns set against the prettiest shade of deep, dark ultramarine blue.
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to live for eternity
I’d withdraw underneath the table, as children do. Staring at the shoes of my loved ones or the carved legs of the great wooden table.
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“To be lost and to be found, that is the life span of love.”
IT’S A LIST, BABY!
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Dosing
I notice sometimes, those one or two line doses feel like icy cool glittering jewels on top of scorching skin.
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Superhero Vaginas
I keep staring at her necklace instead of her boobs, trying to make out the symbol: is it a zodiac sign? A patron saint of… sewing? But my friend grabs my attention.
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not being real
From a second-floor balcony, I hear a sneeze that sounds forced and theatrical, followed by a friendly hello.
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One Hundred
because I want to get inside.
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Marian’s Bike Rides
She’s become a familiar landmark, like the curves of the road she glides through effortlessly.
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the burnt top 🎧
a poem on crafting visibility while hiding.
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Instructions 🎧
for Gigi while I am away / if I die suddenly
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for Hannah
“… but some ties run deeper and you can’t help but feel it. This one was that.”
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La Luce
a list of lightness.
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a Death Doula on yearning 🎧
I wonder what she is feeling for, what she is noticing, as I talk at her. Because she is a death doula, we often come to the topic of death, which I find equally soothing as the moment she wraps a heavy hot towel around my neck and face.
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Parada
The world is sicker than me, and I can’t keep it still.
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Everglazed
… I see the old couple who have their own Saturday routine. The husband always taps the window and waves excitedly at Gigi, not me, to be perfectly clear.