I prepare myself for no one, everyone, someone—JUST myself carefully putting on lipstick, something at home I never do But the heat here makes it glide on my lips smoothly, effortlessly Like I am someone else painted red in Zadar’s city center Sacrificed the crunchy granola no make up for coy cat eyes Stardust sexy stilettos that promise by the night’s end I will have scraped knees Not because of that… Because I may look graceful but stumble on my own shadow Scuffing self consciously down cobblestone aware of every eye that turns Pleased burdened and shy all felt simultaneously My efforts and metamorphosis being noticed, witnessed by strangers The buildings are bleached sandstone Sometimes I can’t tell where the street ends and towers begin I want to disappear become ancient and recovered Rubble of war rebuilt civil battle celebrated here alone, surrounding by a city of stone and stairs Climbing and Stumbling Fumbling toward a meaning I See an angel, no quite literally painted white and illusioned to be floating with a genuine smile she’s silent as tourist toss kunas in an old coffee can A stillness in her heart lost to the clatter of a town square The sun sets and the tiled stone plays to the lowering tide Couples rush by and the air fills with an urgency One to be coupled, and again I’m approached and offered a pivo I sip my mineral water and smile flattered but uninterested I like to watch listen and feel the mix of people melding together separate and thinking of an early time, when I would have The wild freedom of carelessness the lubricant of booze and I sip harder and look out remembering Coolness rolls in and settles on my sunburnt knees Instead I eat carnival colored gelato My life not hidden somewhere else but current I once wanted the world to want me Now I long for the familiar smell of my sheets the touch of my partner and the casual I love yous that slip like hiccups from my four year olds lips I return to my apartment tired and knees unscathed Wipe the lipstick that is barely there Slip into a lukewarm foreign shower And think of the world I’ve seen, the places I’ve been Concluding that finally I have a home waiting that needs me and I it.
This article appears in August 2017 Issue.
