I have built this
With my mind
From bits
That I remember
How does gravity work
There are rules
What are they
Sliding chairs
Noisily
Across the floor
Legs seem important
For reaching
Which way
Musical games
Fighting not to be left
Standing precarious
In an empty space
Is this right
How do I
Find my seat
I rise, yes
I’ll just rest here
Near the light
And read myself
To sleep
-me
Painting: A Little Light Reading, by Roxana Halls
My gut
Soft and young
Took the brunt
Of my hatred
For being made
A woman
At 8
I tried to grab, punch
Tear her away
But she
Never the monster
I took her for
he, he, HE!
Was the the monster
Years of apologies
Amends
Repair
I began to love her
Unbidden
And then
I let him hold her
Too soon
He touched another
She tried to warn
I felt the knots
The churning
I behaved wild
An animal
Tainted spear
Through my gut
Thrashing and lashing
She knew
She knew
She knew
Long before I did
And finally when
I felt it
That night
She cramped and expelled
All the rot that she held
Empty, hungry for war
But my grief
Starved her more
She got small
Spurned
Vulnerable again
My hatred returned
But somehow within
That same year
I started to heed
Her tiny churning
To feed
I followed
The subtle grumbles
However reluctant
I walked away
When she warned
From moments and men
Now we both grow, again
Safe and nourished
Soft and free
I fill her up
Hold her dear
I feel her movements
She guides
I follow
We thrive
Alone
I learn
Fully
How to love Her
Myself
-me
I am learning
To shape myself
With the seasons
Forming my body
Around hours
And months
Ground water
Weaving itself
Differently
Each day
Through my hair
Time invading
Softly waking my brain
No longer
Brutally clapped
On my wrist
Sensing a shift
Umbilically
When the west wind
Turns course
Tugging me
Wrapping my waist
From the east
Thunderheads
The gods
Who brew
And break my plans
Smelling
Their warning
On the air
Electric pheromones
Portending
Awe calling me
Like clockwork
Each dusk
To the swallows
As they gather and play
Above pastures
And somedays
I am pulled
To walk among them
Until dark
And I swear
We are all hysterical
Feeling the currents
Dodging fate
While we can
And laughing
-me
the birds here
impale insects
on the barbs
of wired fences
Nature pays
no mind to me
or my soft heart
but holds me here
impaled
and waiting
scanning the wide
open sky
just the same
– me
I landed here like moss
And draped myself, free
Over these oak trees
A grey canopy dancing
Imperceptibly alive
And growing
-me
This house can hold me
She has done it before
Condensation on
Window panes like
Slow tears wetting
A blade of grass
Blinking S.O.S.
In the sunrise
I can see clearly
With my eyes closed
The light changing
Direction ever so slowly
Inside my thin lids
Subtle warmth rising
Drying moistened cheeks
She sings to me this morning
We will rebuild each other
-me
In some other time
You hold me, still, willing me
To be yours not mine
-me
Fog
Roiled eagerly
Out of my morning
Mug and rolled
Over counter tops
Swirled around
Furniture and
My feet
Curled about me
Rising
The thick sedation
Of memories
Its humid walls
Of hazy safety
Tried to lull me
Scare me, keep me
Stuck and still
Instead I brave
What I cannot see
I move to open
Windows and doors
To create
My own clearing
To walk away
To chase sunlight
To say goodbye
And set myself
Free
-Me
I see
A knot
In the wood
Before me
A universe
At my feet
Patterns
Repeat
I cannot
Yet see
My place
In this
Or how
Our meanings
Meet
-me
She cradled
The nape
Of my neck
In her hands
Soft and cool
And brand new
She told me
To remember
Connection
And so I sank in
And so I was
Reminded
That I can
Turn that way
And this
Stop and go
Pick things up
Set them down
I can say yes
Yes and
No
-me
