shuddering sun
or is it
the world moving
breaking
beneath our feet
i reach for your hand
count the rings
of your fingerprints
brushing against my own
there is no darkness
only birth
there is no light
only the song
of your breathing
Tag: birth
Poem 20160321
extruded from my own life
like a play doh snake
i await my new skin
with trepidation
will it be scales this time
or flames
or just ashes
transformation is
always like childbirth
only you’re forcing yourself
out of your own birth canal
–if you have one–
and you’re never really sure
what’s coming
until it’s out
Poem 20160304
the water is so heavy that i could skip
across the surface like a stone
i could bounce one-two-three
if i were lighter
but the water can’t bear my weight
any more than the earth could
so my lungs fill with thick
warm sweet salty water
i must be drowning
in amniotic fluid
so close to
rebirth
but the fire burning through
my marrow through my bones
makes cinders in my blood
the fire wants cleansing
to cast off the cycle
of birth and rebirth
burning and drowning
at the same time
i close my eyes
i think of you
i open my eyes
i think of you
Poem 20141204
the first time her brother cried
she hid
opening cabinets
in the hospital room
crawling inside
pulling the doors shut
opting for the safety
and the quiet of a womb
big enough to hold her
recognizing the longing
in her brother’s voice
Words and Feathers 