breakfast

September 21, 2014 Posted by gretchen

breakfast

he tastes like vodka and cigarettes and
morning. with the softest secrets between
our balanced exchange of ask and command,
today begins – setting another scene.
i watched him sleep and listened to him breathe,
flickering eyes, speaking whispers in dreams.
the moment you find your way to believe.
hold faith in your heart and know what it means.
there were rain clouds where the sun should have been,
a cobalt grey sky and cool autumn wind.
answers appear in shape and style of him.
resetting history. spin and rescind.
he turned. i rose. exhale each other. hush…
when feeling consumes. beyond realms of much.

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taste of fall

September 19, 2014 Posted by gretchen

Taste of Fall

September tastes like apple cider in New York City. I walked through Central Park in 5am darkness that pricked with the first bite of winter’s warning. Not as hard as what was said last night.

No one goes to the park this early. There’s me, a clan of serial joggers, a few cyclists and a couple of homeless people. I’m here because I have dogs. I have dogs because they get me out of the house. And it’s important for me to get out of the house, because I have habits.

I have habits for a couple of reasons. (more…)

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less than (24 hours)

September 18, 2014 Posted by gretchen

less than (24 hours)

i explained. change.
like fall. collapsed says
foolish history cannot
sustain this real love.
past habit hits and inane
tidbits. useless chips
digging. with sharp nail
scratch. this surface
funnels. flashes. recede.
throw what you can’t hold.
time. never. it counted to me.

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how we keep (stay)

September 18, 2014 Posted by gretchen

how we keep (stay)

you see. when heIMG_0868
and i combine it
is like tidal wave
pulling and pushing
and grabbing and
wet. i stay. remain
starts to be a style.
my midtown hips
his brooklyn hits;
swelter methods
evaporate flames
when we are t(w)o-
gether. gathering rise
and sets. methods
i keep him. sun up,
sun down. cyclic
circle moving each
time he slaps in-
side with just me.
we stay. private.
secret retaining
with one. remaining.

 

“Got some dirt on my shoulder, could you brush it off for me?”


 

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potential of possibility

September 16, 2014 Posted by gretchen

potential of possibility

he came and went. this style. of existence.
not knowing my stance that… everyone leaves.
i stopped my heart before it could commence;
rejecting this world for what i believe.
if he sees one truth, then let it be me.
his pieces snapped in. my kaleidoscope
gaze. he stared into me. what does he see?
endeavoring to mask my faith. my hope…
in my headspace walls, none of it matters.
i have rainbows of ways to deal and cope;
perceiving days as chaos and chatter.
looking around to only see absent.
with claws still dug in that some things are meant.

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    FollowMeToNYC expresses daily thoughts of Gretchen Cello that tend to change with the tides. Naturally these concepts do not reflect those of her employer... or anyone else you may see her walking down the sidewalk with one day.
 
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