hey! two days in a row

Currently, I’m sitting an an 85 degree hotel room, as my partner sits in a scalding hot salt bath to sweat out that last kilo for an 8am weigh-in.

Words <–well, lookit that. a title>

she certainly wasn’t a writer and so definitely not
a poet         not a talker either         not one
to use words like the ocean moves sand
constantly         every touch and retreat
reshapes the meaning of the beach

no

words for her were to cobble
facades         the mortar a slurry of insecurity
and fear

so

you must feel beaten by the surf of my words
relentless
ache stay body time hold live now kind hand
work fair hide need fit take look here you mine
feel leave free sun lift care her strong still
night help down hair put give come dark long
speak time me swing stop hang day life hard fast

now

these words don’t tessellate         they don’t stack to create
levies         they tumble fall shape make
me a woman mother writer
they make me
me

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