my resting place
I ground myself into the earth.
Here.
Veronica
I gave her back. Too.
When my own was born.
I gave much back.
So I could mother.
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.
Read More PinkieNarrative 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.
Read More Narrative on a Wound(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.
Read More (no) superheroSwirling Place
… and all those around you
stand as they will.
Onwards
And then the cyclists
raise me upward.
Consume my eye.
They are waterproof
neck to ankle.
Onwards they pedal.
Onwards their eyes
say to me.
I hear the feeling
That pain and imperfection bring me joy because.
Read More I hear the feelingLevel
Hurt and heal.
Repeat.
