I miss you, my darling
For the world is waking up
I no longer feel like I need to make apologies anymore
I thought my heart died alongside him
I thought other people were the inspiration for why I made up words,
But it’s radically becoming obvious- I am in tune with myself and the way my legs are spread like a spider every day upon waking up.
My thighs are one with my cushion
and everything is rooted
breathing once or twice
Thinking of the power of my body
where I so tightly held my fear
the fear of the cartilage in my kneecaps
would slowly disappear
but my security was restored after my mother outlined what I thought was missing and mysterious bone, and she told me it would be okay.
It’s going to be okay!
The fact I think I’m in love again, but yet I have the grace to understand I’m in love with the visible petals on the flower right now-
but his dirt and roots are what I’m attracting to.
I’m never more in love
or aware of gardening and growth metaphors
Until I can feel my own stomach growl,
Because I know what she needs
and I’m waking up to finding the energy to sustain
the power I hold in my own body and mind.
Physical attraction and the sleepy satisfaction
of realizing the weight of my own body on the bed,
and the thoughts-
and silent prayers of appreciation said in ten minute increments,
and the imaginary trace of his presence,
perhaps maybe on a good day of which I will decide,
he may get a glimpse of who I was and who I am-
My body is mine
She’s free again from the weight of sadness and criticism, but she still prepares for waves of grief
and holds gratitude for the vices of yesterday I put in it.
Moving forward exists in the faith I am now putting in it,
to guide me to yet another time and place
of where time and intimacy and touch,
and confessions on an ordinary Thursday night
where I thank him,
but only after I thank myself,
for validating the sappiness within the heart,
and gratitude for the satisfaction of living again.
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