Is different
than love on the sand.
The leftover heat from the day
radiates up into our bodies.
The edges are sharp.
On the sand,
softness,
and sand grain souvenirs,
find their way into every corner and crevice.
Love on the rocks.
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Wood stove in the middle
the heat
circulates
Bedroom flowing into living room
dining room
kitchen.
Bathroom outside.
We built it ourselves,
and we couldn’t be happier,
living in a round house.
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Half way
to the dinner party
I look over at him
and say,
Oh no! Do I have to speak French all evening??
Half way through the evening
I become exhausted
steam rolled
by my second
language.
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seeds
growing stars.
There aren’t enough,
she says,
and what about the ones that are growing old?
Who will replace them?
Baby stars are brighter,
she says,
I learned it in school.
But don’t worry now,
carefully placing a piece of glitter in her hole,
the baby ones are brighter.
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at night.
Grass stains on our pants
but we don’t mind.
As his body flies up into the air
unexpectedly stable.
And will they understand
if they weren’t there?
And which moments
can be captured
by words
on the page?
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soft and smooth
it burns
cackling
twisting and turning
enveloped by flames.
it burns hot
and the damp kindling catches
saving us
from a night alone
in the rain.
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At the grocery store
anxiety courses through my body
I am late.
I am late,
and I can tell by the way she is picking up each package of pasta
it’s going to take her
10 minutes just to get her debit card out of her wallet.
I am late
and the cashier chats kindly to the lady
and I can’t understand why.
I am late.
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is milky and cold.
But I savour it
wanting more.
I used to sip tea
in my grandmothers living room
and she would bring cookies
and we would be warm.
I used to sip tea
in the mountains
where the rooms were damp
and even a wool sweater
wouldn’t keep the chill out.
I used to sip tea
in my living room
I get up
and put on another pot.
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bares all
even when my words say
I’m fine, I’m great.
My jaw tight
face scrunched
shoulders hunched
with anger
“Are you sure you’re okay??”
“Of course I’m okay. I’m relaxed okay?”
My sister gives me a look and starts to laugh
gently.
I laugh too
and then cry
the body
speaks.
To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donate click here.
bright
vibrant
sensitive
sensations
feeling the wind
for the first time.
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