day 30: a list of things to which i wave my handkerchief

- Polished-heart-shaped stone
- Guilt, in the form of bottomless ice water
- The hypothermia that goes with the above
- Sentence fragments no wait, keep those
- Chicken McNuggets
- My feathers
- Looking over my shoulder for the sound of hooves on pavement
- Worrying about you
- Worrying about the stretch marks on the insides of my thighs
- Am I good in bed?
- No abandon
- I can't kiss you because you'll think I love you and that would scare you away
- Flat pillows
- Tonight's Boxer weather, thank you for lingering
- My attachment to my longer hair
- Laying out my veins and capillaries, end to end, just to see if there was something I missed when I first saw you on Saturday
- Don't
- leave
- me
- hanging on
- Taking ten extra minutes at lunch
- Planning around your possible next visit fuck it
- Lingering

-Dana Winter

day 29: won't pull

You must have fallen from some high twig,
a helicopter seed that cozied up to the soil.

You are a tree. / You are a beech tree.
You shade my window from extraneous sun.
Was that you dancing in the wind? / Was that you filtering out the summer moonlight?
Speaking of the moonlight,

the soft, tasty beams on our backs
remind me that I am looking out into the dark.
I look up / I point out a shooting star,
but as close to the ceiling as you are,
by the time you follow my finger,
it has landed and set fire to a field / far away.
I hear the cheatgrass wailing in the distance
as you turn to see my face,
the arches soaking up the pale paint / I imagine you do, at least

Was that you rustling with your dried leaves? / Was that you?

You are a tree. I am a fruit.
I am a piece of fruit that regrows its skin every time someone slices at me.
I had someone turn me over in their hands yesterday
and read the lines--

in my past, I had a destiny.
Somewhere along there, I made a decision--
one decision--
and changed course.
The diamonds mean learning opportunities.
Some of the lines don't cross,
and something in there, she said,
means that I am loved by many people,
more than I think.
Don't go giving me radical ideas, I said,
before rolling off the counter and into the grass.

Does it hurt to walk so nimbly with root-feet?
Are you tired, yet?

Can you pick me up?
We'll decide on a time / later.

-Dana Winter

day 28: in the good news and the bad

You were the sleep that I spent ten minutes rubbing out of my tear ducts this morning in vain attempts to get out of bed.
You were the rocky start.
You were in the reflection that showed me unwashed hair and red acne and faint freckles.
You were in the fourth, never occupied-chair at our table at breakfast, since my brother usually occupies the third whenever he's home.
You were in the blips of radio silence as my mother and I listened to the weather and news over her coffee and book and my cereal.
You were in the exultation of the high seven-twenty-five sun as I powered over to the school.
You were lingering in the breaths of tired sighs from teachers on a Monday morning.
I saw your name in the subject line of the one email I received today.
I ate lunch with you in silence while reading the 2013 Humana Festival collection.
You were in Oscar's hyperactive smile and Savannah's giggles, even though neither of us want children.
You were

I know that you aren't looking to drop anchor anywhere right now.
I'm not either. Really. At least, that's what I know is good for me, for the forseeable future.

But today I dropped off a package in the wrong dropbox,
bought a belated birthday card for a woman who's like a second mother to me,
and heard that someone I know was arrested for verbally and physically abusing his two-month old son;

And I know I don't want children,
And I know I want New York and Louisville,
And I know I love my mother,
And I know the sky today caused irreparable damage to my heartstrings because it was so blue,

And I know we really barely know each other but
Please--

For the first time since I recognized
the bloom that bloomed in my cavity of a torso
when I met you--

That blue sky
those clouds
that sun heat
standing on Saddle Rock
a scream that tears my throat
a beat, a pause--

I want
these arms to fold
around this torso
and collapse against your chest

I want to be
free enough
to cry against your shirt

and I want those turnstall arms
and I want your hand on the back of my head

I want your protection.
I want to cry with you there.

I have never actually wanted to be
as vulnerable around someone I want
as I want in this moment.

You're definitely different.

-Dana Winter

day 27: signals upstairs

We are going to be okay NO
YES
no,
I am going to be okay.

So are you.
You are okay.
You are great.
You're fine.
I'm fine.

Look, we're both fine.
That's all this world needs.
Obviously we'd be great,
but that's not for me to decide.

You swing the hammer--
I'm only holding the nail in place.

-Dana Winter

day 26: five minutes

Part 1
I drove around and found corners of this town from which I'd never cleaned the cobwebs.
I drove around and found corners of this town I'd never even seen before.
I got pink on my chest and
saw you for five minutes.

You said you looked for me.
I missed your call.

Part 2
I drove up Ninth on my way to
my old stomping grounds and it was seriously
the most beautiful
sun was shining over castle rock
and all the lightweight, fluffy seeds
from some unknown tree
were floating and flying at my windshield
I almost cried because it was straight out of my head, this moving picture

Part 3
I sat in the parking lot by myself and waited for your call,
because I didn't want to go home.
I stared at the lawn--
where I once had my first film kiss,
now stands a new music and arts building for the college--
the light hit the birch and pine just on the top of the foliage
and I filmed it
and sang 'Guest Room' to myself.
The other night I filmed the rainy street,
sunset, patchy gray sky,
and sang it to sleep with 'Pink Rabbits.'
Maybe this will be a new thing for me.

Part 4
We were playing tag and you're still it.
I will stay up all night waiting for 'Humiliation' to ring through my phone and for your name to show up.

-Dana Winter

day 25: faire breeze tomorrow

You are here and                                                                                         I was walking on dirty carpet

You are here and                                  I spent my whole day listening to a boisterous out-of-tune choir

You are here and                                                 I am taking care of my mother who is not feeling well

You are here and                                                           I am dreaming about the red roofs of Dubrovnik

You are here and                                                            I am watching the walls of my room start a war

You are here and                  I am guilty for eating the way I wasn't supposed to at the end of this week You are here and                                                                           I was supposed to look better because

You are here and                                                                                                                   the sun is out

You are here and                                                                                       there has been and will be rain

You are here and                                               the great god music is shuffling its feet too fast, Balboa

You are here and                                                                     I am wishing tameness on my lion's mane

You are here and                                                                    my face is still not clear on how to behave

You are here and                                   today on the drive home I realized how beautiful spring is here

You are here and            I just remembered that I don't know what your hands really look like up close

You are here and                                                                            I do remember the color of your eyes

You are here and                                                                            you are hopefully still as pale as I am

You are here and                                                                                  I want to hold both of your hands

You are here and                                                    I want you to hold both of my hands in one of yours

You are here and                     I wish that my torso could giraffe up so I could hug you less awkwardly

You are here and                                                                                                                 tonight maybe

You are here and                                                                                                 tomorrow I will see you

You are here and                                                                                             I am not supposed to know

You are here and                                                                                                                    I don't think

You are here and
You are here and
You are here and

-Dana Winter

day 24: willing for a clear face for saturday

There's a pile of unfolded sheets in the middle of my bed / two days cold from the dryer / the sea-blue and dark teal ocean walls of my room / are tinged with Boxer glow / and every song I hear now / I finally understand / I feel like doing nothing / but lying on the unmade sheets on an already made bed / and there is the scene you enter / Your voice is liquid something and I get inebriated just listening to you / Listening to you / laugh / is like watching the sun trying to peak through overcast canopies / and seeing a murmuration of starlings fly across the fuzzed gray glow / Your tattoo on my heart reads / "Nothing is ever sure / What is absolute? / Only a vodka" / but there's that rockabilly rose all the same / When you say my name I come running / and trip over my own feet / and skin my palms / bandages never felt so soothing / You sweep me off my feet like a low-leveled helicopter kick / I see stars when I'm around you / stars that are falling too fast / good-bye dinosaurs / When I walk over to you / and take you in my vision / I feel breathless / like someone who bit off more than they could chew and signed up for a 10k and never trained for it but had to finish it for a bet / I would push the day sky back for you / at only your mention of how much you love moonlight / I see you / and raise you / raise me? / You make me feel like a walking cliché / and all myself / at the same time / and I'm okay with that /
 
-Dana Winter

(hit the ground running off of this lovely prompt by Megan Falley)

day 23: skip coma

Sir, I scalded, skip all to
scoutin' breathe a' the land o' snow
or I, this, with Thor's calculator?
Thought, is't equ'lly but a drought tear?
"Harder beer a' the--have no forum
Who nah--raker--ya in, loon, ah,
Glad to litho- goat us stay, um,
Clap a spare tear but a slopper.

-Dana Winter

day 23 bonus! original text: "Skipkoma"

Sér ei skáldið skip á öldu
skautum búið að landi snúa?
er ei þys við þorskakasir?
þóttast ekki búðadróttir?
"Harður byr að hafnavörum
húna- rekur -jóinn lúna,
glatt er lið á götustéttum,
glápa sperrtir búðaslápar."

-Jónas Hallgrímsson

day 22: hello, shadow

Hello, Shadow!
Are you my shadow?
Well, I'm your shadow too!

Let's go outside
And do all of the
Things that shadows do!

Let's hide, let's seek,
Behind these trees,
We'll never know we're there!

Let's trick our eyes
With heatwaves, and
Go dancing in the air!

We'll follow other
Shadows to the
Park to play a game

We'll see that though
We're different lengths,
All shadows sound the same.

I'm glad to have you
By my side,
My shadow; --I am too!

How do other
People live
Without good friends like you?

-Dana Winter

day 21: to the composer or the cinematographer (i wanna wanna)

It calls for my bones, and they buzz and hum

I wanna wanna
Go light-stepping through Prospect Park
Go combat-lite-stomping through Flatbrush and Lefferts

I wanna wanna
Go guise-floating through Williamsburg
And shadow-hopping through Bed-Stuy
Bushwick's got my explorer's number

Letsee ummm
Letsgo uptown
Gimme the Hudson so I can do my makeup
Cloudy gray slut smokey eyes
to take on Manhattan
Cloudy thoughtful bare eyes
before landing on the Dumbo side of the bridge again

I wanchyu
on a nice hardwood floor with exposed brick
but maybe put a nice area rug there first
Maybe we can wait for the trees
to filter in the late May light
and I'll put Alligator on
we'll fuck to 'Karen' but make love to 'Geese of Beverly Road'

I wanna wanna
find Sufjan Stevens and stare into his window
until he calls the cops or lets me be his friend
Or would that be too much?

Let's beat our soles into the pavement
Let's beat the pavement into our soles
Let's wear the pavement on our feet
and the streets in our souls

I feel like we'd get lost in Central Park but
letsgetit
Letsget lost in there anyway
No one will find us for days
and when they do...well, what would they find?

Show me all the places you know
Show me all the haunts you ghost
Play me a song

Take me
(there)

-Dana Winter

day 20: evening city

Driving home at night
Brings the shadows darting into the road like cats;
A mailbox, on the right side, in my headlights, looks like a man named Paul walking on the sidewalk, dressed all in white.
They jump out at me.

Roads are too wide here.
Space is still too open,
no matter how close to downtown you live.

I learned today what the differences between
a road,
a street,

an avenue,
a lane,
a boulevard,
a quey,
a mew,
a crescent,
and a place
were.

I want a place where we can sit
in the dark
and look over the valley
without it being Pecker's Point.

I was asked to write from the point of view of a family member,
but no matter how much I understand them,
I couldn't write it about anything but me.
I have less of a gauge on each of them than I thought.

I want a place
for you & me
a boulevard where there is no traffic
and we live on the island in-between,
under the trees.

-Dana Winter

day 19: shoulderblade sea cat, or trying, or something else

There is the smell of the river / and there are the hills / and there is a paved trail I could walk / There is a shell called the Shoulderblade Sea Cat / and all I see is the stupidly hilarious picture you could cobble together in photoshop / even though I see a powerful whale / There are people who use things to escape thoughts of people they used to love to think about but now want to forget / If I tried to use any of those things to throw these thoughts of you out the window / any of these distractions / if I tried to watch movies I loved / my mind would find a way to re-work the plot / or the theme / or one of the characters / about you / If I tried to read a book / I'd imagine the way I'd look to you curled up in one of my grandparents' old barrel chairs / reading a book / If I tried sleeping with anyone else / I wouldn't finish / because not only would I be thinking of your face / trying to hear your voice / I'd imagine the look on your face as if you were watching / and I know that's strange / but listen / If I tried to listen to any music / and go for a walk or / run / any thing that / any song was / about / would morph into our story / and I'd keep waiting to be surprised / by you suddenly coming up behind me / and whispering into my ear all low / and trying to wrap your arms around my waist / but finding yourself too tall for that / and choosing my shoulders instead / I'd picture you burying your nose in my hair / trying to smell my shampoo / trying / I'd feel your inhaling breath / you slow me down / you stop me dead in my tracks and / i can't / i can't / i white-girl can't / I hope you have not forgotten what I look like / in the three months since you talked to me for five minutes / and the year+ / you drove me around / on freeways for minutes / and bought me beer I didn't drink because I was either too busy talking or listening to you talk or laughing or trying to make you laugh / I hope you have not forgotten what I looked like then / I have let myself go since then / and I feel better / and the only thing reining me back slightly is / the visions of you walking through the doorway / of wherever I am / wherever I am / there it is / the thought of you / and I'm trying / god I'm trying / to keep it cool / god I am not cool / I am cold-blooded but / you-saturated thoughts make me shed my scales / i just / i can't / with you / There are seashells with fantastic names / and there are whales and whale sharks / and I can't even think of the ocean / because you couldn't smell it like I could / you / you / i / you /

-Dana Winter

day 18: lawnside

Sucking in and biting cheeks
DNA between my teeth
A fragrance you may never catch
A gaze that you may never meet

The wasps above my windowsill
Hovered, circling--nothing's still
My last drink to the foll'wing:
If you won't, then no one will.

In this house you'll never rest
The front yard at its loveliest
You'll never glance upon my form
When I am not looking my best

Last crystal rose honey drop of bliss
And stumb'ling through--oh what is this
Oh darling--may I call you that?
Oh god, you caught--oh god, I missed

No one shall, and no one will--
Hov'ring, circling--never still
My last grinding teeth tap out:
If you won't, then no one will.

I'll never let them, never will.
Keep hovering, you never will?
Your screen stays shut? The latch is locked?
I'll always circle--never still.

-Dana Winter

day 17: tired ode to the post-rain street

When the rain falls again

An uneven, a learning marching band
Its snares the only thing heard
The only thing constant
And they won't stop drumming on my roof

I can smell each drop
Kicking up a crater of dirt
Like delight and oh clean me

But what gets me
Is the sight,
For I cannot see the rain
Save for against my window

Until it becomes a sheet
A veil between our beech tree
And the house across the street
A shimmering

Don't go away again

-Dana Winter

day 16: my personal dystopia's radio propaganda

I'm a psychic scammer.
I'm a shot-in-the-air dancer.
I know some damn complicated arithmetic,
and I don't see art being good friends with science.
Music should only make you want to sweat in clubs,
and dirt should always be swept under the rug.

I can understand what whales say,
but it's not that beautiful.
I can see all the way out of our star cluster,
but there's nothing interesting.
I'm never tempted to see the marrow of my bones,
and not once have I ever wanted to try flying.

I'm a person who can make eye contact,
and hold the gaze of someone whose entire aura shakes mine.
Not that yours does. Your aura, I mean. Do you even have one?

I don't think about you that much.
Liking you was just a phase.
The things we have in common don't mean much,
and I'm definitely not counting the days until you're here.
Cool.
Alright.
Everything is all right.

Life should be lived fast
and everything should be a blur--
I only see your face as in a Monét-pond-reflection,
As if I don't remember it.
What color are your eyes?
Have I ever made you laugh?
Maybe, but it's not like you touched the nape of my neck at all.

Dolphins aren't smart, the Pope ain't great,
And Poems should always and never not rhyme.
Fried chicken is the best for you, and here's a cold fact:
I could never see myself staying with you for a long time.

No holocaust has ever happened,
and we're no longer at war.
Words should say exactly what they mean,
and I don't know what the thought of you is for.

-Dana Winter

day 15: you are the furthest point

Cherry blossoms, all white,
Covering sapling branches,
Fluttering shirtsleeves in the soft stark light.

I am at an apogee,
Though the pavement reminds my fluttering mind
That I'm as close to earth as I'll ever be.

You said, "I know what we'll listen to,"
When we hit the highway heading home;
Electric ghosts took my lungs, and I flew.

Do you carefully think before you speak
to me? Or do you feel like laying down
in a bed of feathers before you leak,

Before you spill,
Lips to ears,
Before you kill?

No more side hugs, else no hugs at all.

-Dana Winter

day 14: oil pulling and concocting, or while I imagine our reunion as an improv game

What do you mean, your teeth?

  What do you mean, your elbow?

What do you mean, your hair moving around like that?

  What do you mean, wind?

What do you mean, you like me?

  What exactly do you mean, I like you?

How long?

  When did we meet?

Do you remember?

  How could you forget?

Haven't I told you about my mind?

  Did you know there's more than one person 

in the world 

with a selective memory?

Why do I feel like that's an unfair question?

   Why do I always feel like someone a foot taller than me 

has an advantage over me in any kind of situation?

Are you crying?

   Why can't the sunset be ugly for once?

Why won't you look at me?

   Have I ever really made eye contact with you?

Have you seen my glasses?

  Are mine on my head?

When did you get glasses?

  How did you lose your sense of smell?

Are you being serious right now?

Did you know my bones are made of paper,

and my skeleton hinges swing on golden brads?

What's the matter?

Am I crying?

Are you trying to be difficult?

   Can't you understand?

What's there to understand?

   What were we just talking about?

Do you love me?

   What?

Answer the question.

--.

-Dana Winter

day 13: h. news

My head is filled with song
My mouth, oil, in place of the blood
      that comes from sucking in
      and biting the insides of my cheeks

The earthly starscape is a
light map
going up the new road on Badger Mtn
I sometimes forget how beautiful
this place can be,
This
giant's footprint
between basalt and mountains

You are on your way
in less than two weeks

You are on your way
in less than two weeks

I need my rest
I need to rest my head on
one of spring's sky pillows
the light wouldn't bother me if
I could just rest there for a whole day

You are on your way
I think you want to see me

I'm just going to enjoy
this little crush
for what it is

Whatever it is

For what it is

-Dana Winter

day 12: play your deep notes

Heaviness...is a string instrument, usually with four strings tuned in perfect fifths.
It recently became the most expensive heaviness in the world,
      selling for an estimated $16 million.
Heaviness is the most popular instrument for children;
      it is also the most in-demand instrument at the professional level.
Playing heaviness burns 170 calories an hour.
Heaviness is generally either maple or spruce.
Heaviness is very complex.
      Over 70 different pieces of wood are put together to form the modern heaviness.
Heaviness strings were first made of sheep gut (commonly known as cat gut),
      which was stretched, dried, and twisted.
Although originating in western culture, use of heaviness has spread
      into many cultures throughout the world.
To the uninitiated, heaviness may look fairly simple, but looks can be deceiving--
      this little sister is one sophisticated lady.

-Dana Winter