I would live in a one-bedroom shack with you-
unable to turn around without bumping into each other-
in a neighborhood where we would never even dream to venture out in at night.
And I would sit watching you hunched over
your pad for hours, scribbling
with a single-minded focus I wish
I possessed
and I would tell you again how much
I always wished I could draw-
and you would look up and grace me
with one of your rare, radiant smiles and say
but baby you can write
as if my little words reached into anything but my own soul-
but somehow your belief allows me to go on even when no one else sees what you do-
and I would light candles and read to you when it came down to paying rent
or the electricity bill-
and we can work just as well by flickering lights anyway.
And I will work serving coffee to make ends meet because this whole writing thing isn’t paying off
in the ways the real world requires.
I would build a life with you- maybe not
as comfy as the kind our parents
taught us to aspire to –
but a small, happy little one
reading Sherman Alexie poems and drinking tea and baby making a baby one day
or just raising our flock of parrots
and making our art
and loving each other.

“I would live in a one bedroom shack with you”- 10-20-13- jessicagadziala


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