Dear Christina Aguilera -

New poem for today.  We were writing off of Julia Bloch's incredible book, Letters to Kelly Clarkson.  I chose to write to Christina Aguilera.

Dear Christina Aguilera -

We first really met on a treadmill.  That black line that stutters and blurs out of motherhood.  This was after my second child and I’ll admit, I was blurry as the rain spackled glass I was looking through.  I’m sure we’d met before back in your Genie days.  You are like one of those Russian dolls continually walking out of yourself.  I was listening to a mix I’d put together I called don’t fuck with me I’m sleep deprived.  And every time your song came on, I’d look at the album cover on my iPhone (you, sleek as a gazelle). Then, I'd look into the dead eyed glass in front of me and run for it. You know Christina, I never got through that space between what I perceived and what was real.  That black line in the brain that is continually moving past.