Daniela

dispossessed
provocative

her disenfranchised hair chopped

draft copy

the lens
through which she
saw was
rose

wraps of scarves
continuity of thought

in those unlucky lost days
we enjoyed a vodka and maybe a smoke
or ten or never enough

traveled by jeep
through tunnels

the light 

what was left of it

collected
sustained
the fabric
my friend
myself
and
threaded
the dawn

#katyamills

response to mikulova

i remember how we met last year, a hopeful time for us, our mutual friend turned me on to your work. we were closer than friends really and had never been acquainted. up late the night before i read what you wrote then drove, me and my guy, down to alameda to see daniela, her daughter and you. memories of life in oakland flooding through me. the party was great though a little too much. you were tired from traveling the world and camped out in a big chair, anyways, and i came and sat down by all of you where we exchanged smiles and made eyes. the music and laughter and smoke. of course your words, the ones you wrote, i thanked you for them. this is how it can be with us writers.