The Nameless

I’ve had the flu the past few days and there’s a million things I want to post and write about. In the end, I decided to post a poem today from a poem I wrote while living in Hawaii. The poem is based on a real situation that occurred. I was newly divorced and spent most of my time living in Hawaii, trying to connect with the idea of dating again. There was one night where I met this amazing girl at a bar/club and we just connected. The thing about living in a tourist hotspot is you’d meet great, wonderful people all the time only to find out they were on vacation. We met, we hung out, and I found out she was leaving by sunset the next day. Instead of make it into something it would never be, we both just let it be as it was. We enjoyed each other for who we were exactly at that moment and nothing more. The funny thing is I was never sad or ruminated on what could have been. I just fell in love with her as a wonderful, brief, perfect moment of my life. In my mind, that’s where she stays. It’s a reminder sometimes to me that things don’t have to always be big. Some of our greatest moments happen in the smallest increments of time. When I think of it, it reminds me to keep my head right where I am instead of staring off into the horizon because if we’re always looking into the future, we might miss moments in the present that are perfect.

 Nameless, Sara
 

 Don't tell me your name
 Everything is waiting to be broken or kissed.
 I read an article about how the smell of tropical flowers
 Is especially strong to the noses of women. You
 Laugh as I tell you about the article, pick you 
 A Chinese Hibiscus put it to your nose, wondering out loud
 Does this make you more vulnerable? The earth
 Is full of stories: Pele birthing these islands, NPR reports
 On communities poisoned by their own water, memoirs
 Of spiritual enlightenment. All I have dreamed for months,
 Has accrued in your beauty tonight. Finally,
 Monsoon Season is here, the rains come and pass
 Over these islands, narrating the passage of time. We stumble
 Home drunk, holding hands. I could
 Close into you like a pearl. I could
 Exile myself into your sweet, vast meridians.
 It is just before dawn and the rest of the world waits
 For the sun to rise. Somehow, I know myself
 In these hours of waiting for light. It’s sweet how
 We don’t really know each other, yet we bloom
 In this knowledge. We are limp with wine, beer,
 A late autumn adolescence easing the creak
 In the marrow of our beings. It might just be the lie that heals
 The scar that could never form, I think, as I run
 My hands through your the brownish tints of your ecru hair,
 As it threatens to block your almost fawn colored eyes.
 Survival comes in increments in this world. Hope
 In a language or a dare that inhabits you. Before next sunset,
 I will never know you again. The ocean beside us
 Has the capacity to hold many blues, sustain many
 Currents. It moves us along, It allows
 Me to keep holding your hand. Knowing,
 It will separate us. Still understanding
 The importance of letting this small moment
 Become absorbed into our forevers.