My Moment

Today I had a moment. So excuse me, but I had a moment. A moment to breathe. To shake off all the worry. To submit myself to the universe and it’s energy. 

I had a moment between the shifts of a few papers. I had my moment eating lunch. I walked outside and took a breath and finally felt something. I broke free of the smiling depression and simply smiled to the sky.

I had my moment for an eternity of heartbeats and a sisterhood speech. I howled. I whispered. I sat quiet on a bench. I walked a line so close to freedom and wobbled toward what might be next.

I had a moment to release the anx and leave this physical realm. Diving deeper in the midst of roots that were trying to tie me down. I swam in the mud of the noise. I drank all the cars on the road. I imagined myself a giant. Then a toad. Then a friend. Then a ghost.

I had my moment in the mirror when I wiped off all the tears. It revealed a face much deeper that I’d never noticed there. My moment revealed happiness and heartbreak and pain and the potlucks of many colorful lives I had made.

Unspoken Correspondence

I almost ran into your aura today. The thing that makes you most unapproachable and unimaginably attractive. You stumbled when I looked up. I smiled that it was I your eyes hooked. A year went by before I swallowed the unspoken correspondence. Urgency rounded up my skirt as I turned to leave the room. My aura howled as it stretched from beneath my pelvis. I could feel my hairs rise on the back of my neck where your eyes had locked and I continued to walk. I knew you’d follow. 

Wild with Her Teeth

She was wild with her hair. Tangled, dry, and framed to perfection as the wind blew, rounding her wild face perfectly.
She was wild in her eyes. Narrowed to attack, wide when surprised. Emotions so deep yet sat on her pride.

She was wild with her teeth. The kind you watch eat because they are so fascinating. Chicken chewed down to the bone and a snap, suck, slurp, of the marrow. 

Tug

She tosses the weight between her shoulders once more. Her head has become heavy, her arms low, her back worn. She ages a half life while he wears her down, yet her smile can be spotted from the other side of town. No worries, no bother, she’ll tend to his pleas. One day he might actually get what he actually needs. Her strength doesn’t buckle, her confidence anew and she loves to care for him in the way he wants her to. Her body is stuck. Freedom dances only in her mind, crawling on the floor to feel the heartbeat of earth for awhile. He’s back and he wants her – he’s gone, now, no more. She’s stuck in his withering tug-of-war.