I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.
– Sylvia Plath
I am a flicker of phrase in a curious jar. Firefly waiting. I am quiet lightning, and rumbled thunder under sky-forked tongues. I am borrowed light of moon. I am simmered sunshine, the bellow of this breeze on paper skins. I begin with silence and know the violence of ink in veins. I am (slightly) (sleight of hand) sane, when quilled in sky and salt. I am concrete served neat, no rocks. I am small smooth stones pebbled into ample pockets. Scattered. I am matter: skin and blood and bone and curve (of smile). I am sometimes squandered things, remembered too late. I am spill, and will, and the leftover swill of last night’s w(h)ine. I am beating, brutal, beautiful bumble (bee) heart, all inked up buzz and feeling fine.
Day 6 for Grace’s 28 days of self love.
Gosh, De. This is just magical to read.
wow yes this is super, de (dooper!)
Stunning work, De! You’ve channeled your inner Plath here with the smooth polish of optimism, making it uniquely your own.