perfect

we don't get it
we'll never get it.
only in brief
glances and moments
do we feel the blessings of understanding.
our lives--our tiny lives--
made up of
mistakes and failures
and misunderstandings.
we'll never get it.
but we don't have to.
that's the beauty of life.
it somehow defies logic
and adds up to
perfect

answers that come in small packages

The disappearing nature of the people we have been...

When the tide rises and washes it all away. Grips the sides of the sink and heaves a breath--lungs burn. Wipes the steam from the mirror and don't recognize what is there. Stand trying to make out the stranger. The lost. The one who is forgetting. The one choking. Blink once and see the perfect sand, gentle waves, and sea grass swaying. Blink twice and it's gone--the waves pound into nothing but reality. Wanting never to have felt the warmth when the cold hurts like this. Shut eyes one last time, afraid of what will be there when they open. Open my eyes.

...Find myself slowly disappearing, too.