armadillo

And then like a pool cue, his inner child propelled mine forward with a slow roll and a pocket.

Death

We don’t talk about how relationships never end …. it feels … like reaching through air.

star born

“You realize we are sisters again, now that we are free.”

“Yes,” she said.

my resting place

I ground myself into the earth.
Here.

Pinkie

I love you. Your forehead; my lips. Your rings; my giving. Your lifeless body; my ring. My ring; your body leaving. My longing; your pinkie finger. My decision; topaz side by side. I love you.

Narrative on a Wound

The wound, the wound. You know that bearded man, the one who died? The one who died angry, who wrapped himself around me and I led him out? Well it’s been a year now and I’ve been angry (again). He never said good bye.

(no) superhero

Grief and joy are opposites. Except that grieve is the preferable word because it is not static. And if you let it live all of its lives, joy is a word that whispers constantly. And softly.

Altar

I didn’t intend to build an altar. I don’t worship. But I knew what had to stand in place of that guitar. And I know honouring now, like I did not before. Like a parent, I guide and narrate what is left of me – what grows – now that there is no body with which to commune.

I am a Witch

I asked death to wrap itself around me.
It passed through and I crawled out.

Show me the money

And to those with their nose in their wallets, I raise my cup high. That kind of discontent is not to be held, nor will it be caught by me. The only blessing to which I assign value is this peace, this beautiful peace that tells me that nothing was lost. All is, as it should be.