You built me, years ago
And in a fit of tears what began as a question, an act of creation and letting go
celebration of the unknown.
I was born from an idle whistle,
as the doe walked by the picture window,
as the kettle screamed
imagined rhymes and futures drifted on by her,
like knees knocking on the swing set, hair that stands straight out, cheeks flushed in the rain.
Now we sit at the kitchen table
like it's the simplest act in the world,
to have given life
I don't want to be a walking womb
I want to nurture, with my whole body-
heart included. I want to give and receive equally, the joys and sorrows that mortality bestows us.
I want to know,that I am more than a body. That the thoughts which echo within me, bounce back into the universe
with some symbolism and clarity
with some recycled dirt and magic
and with my consent.