Brave

He tells me I’m brave 

but I can do anything 

when I know I come home to these arms 

February

Something about the morning sun
on my tired face
on the front porch
in the cold air

I feel the stirrings
of something like hope

I sit in my warm memories
of papaya on the top deck
in the jungle
of the waves that tossed me
head over heels on the black sand

I close my eyes
the promise of springtime
it makes me ache
It feels something
like hope

7 weeks

In becoming a mother
I fear becoming my mother
losing myself
maybe on purpose
or by accident

A prisoner to the life I’ve created
my old self only seen
in whispers in the wind,
in the light that winks through
the crack in the door.
The deep murmurs in dreams,
a glimpse beneath dark waters.

I cannot lose her,
the wild woman.

She is life itself.

Nightmare

I walked into the room 

And it was my sister 

on the breathing machine 

I couldn’t fix her

I tried everything. 

It was my sister in my dream 

Balloon

Fear is a balloon

Inflating inside my chest 

Pressing on the inside of my ribs 

It’s hard to take a breath 

It’s hard to think of missing you

Multiply

Kiss my lover in the bedroom 

Kiss a stranger in the street 

I fall in love a little 

with everyone I meet 

They say I’m giving it away 

but 

thats a lie

My love just multiplies 

mother//lover

Men are like children

When they come to us 

Letting their strength fall of their shoulders 

Roll down their backs

And drop, softly, to the floor

We hold and caress 

We fill and nourish 

We are the mother and the lover 

Giver of all things sweet