How do I speak up for myself
when every man I meet
pulls out my teeth?

What do I say to the skeletons in the closet?
Their bones know no warmth, their bodies are long gone.
The only conversations I have with them are their ankles and fingers sighing forward against the door, only moved by the wind.

You speak to me,
want to bring me up tough,
but I'm a gentle, soft winged bird.
These songs aren't sung about war,
I only breathe about love and loving.

(I wish I could take myself to where the sun is always shining and skin is never blue, where the Earth is always quiet.)

Wherever you
may be -
be it in strife
or
in gladness
            know I am
              flinging out    
                   my heart
             to the stars
hoping
      that, like a
              boomerang,
                    you will
catch it
bless it
infuse it
with all
you can
even if in
pieces
peeking through
the cracks
of your being
and hurl it
over the blanket
of celestial
               reasoning
                   tossing it
                like a wish
        into the heavens
until it reaches
my hands
safe, sound
and ever expansive
Know
          that while I
              send my prayer
                          to receive
                   that the real
                reason is to
         have suffused
within you
a breath
         of freshness
                   recharging
the parts of you
that have become
too heavy
to bear
     imbuing you
with the sacred
forces of
winter strength
spring light
the balance of
autumnal winds
and the ripe
heady fruit
of summer
Now
            as my hands
catch that pulsing
mass of life
       and put safely
                   back into
                          my chest
I bless the winds
the you
within me
and
         fly