Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Being buried to the chin in a pile of warm dryer clothes feels like:

the Earth is healed, the streets smell sparkly
and lack cement. She is able to be in her body--
each muscle, unlocked is weeping into
the finish line. The finish line is a light
beam. The quiet

is safety roaring's arms in which
she is.
Her muscles no longer
weep. They wept until 
they dropped

She is all that is left. 
She can look at any color and be okay. 
The stuttering stops-- that word 
in her mouth lets go of her tongue and as it

is spoken, it floats away.

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