Velvet

Worries like brambles
twist
constrict
’round your mind.

Thorns pinch
flesh
and thought

Leaves close
’round
eyes

Until you are
blind
and
dumb.

But blink.
Breathe.
Let the thoughts
wither
and look down.

A rose
nods
just within view.

It tastes
of velvet

White Space

Some balance
rock
upon
rock.

But rocks are not always on hand
when the baby cries,
when the dishes break,
when the heart bruises
black.

But
breath

is.

The white space
of the mind
can stack
breath

upon breath

upon

 

breath.

Seeing

This baby of mine,
plump cheeks, rolled thighs, the strongest body you’ve ever met,

she gazes up,
eyes round blue,
eyebrows curled in serious furrow,

and she sees
it all.

Sweater, fallen bib, crinkly paper, rubber flip-flop,

and my face. Serious eyes
seeing

my face.

Fog

I carry my own
fog,

a swath
of saturation
muffling
my mind,

wicking, wet,
towards my heart.

Water for life,
now mud
on my dreams.

That which you need
can cloak your loves

when it is all
you see.

Sing

sing
sing
deep in your soul
where your cells knit,
where your blood flows,

unlid that song
that has sparked
every dream,

that has danced
to the tide
of your heart.

The Fall

We like to assume
this is an abyss.
Whether love
or servitude,

we see ourselves pushed backward,
tumbling,
tumbling,

gone.

For then, we shrug,
whatever
splatter
we make

cannot be
our fault.

So we

lean

into the slip.
We

romanticize
the

fall.

Sleepless

Plushness of baby held to my chest
Smell of milk, wet and dry, soaked into breath, clothes.
She wails, sick, sleepless.
Her needs weigh against my wants
struggle
scrape…

Then, in friction, ignite.
Motherhood flames
Heart burns clear
I steady the babe against my soul.

Unless

I raise my hand,
I part my lips.

But the tickling feet
of one,
ten,
two thousand
bees
quiver, quake,
and coat with sting

my tender fingers
and face.

Anxiety
arrests me.

I cannot move.

Unless,
beneath the surface,
lies a glow
of living sap,

a tree
of life.

Beginner’s Mind

I hover in time,
Hands pressed
On the pulse of air,
Mind,
Minutes.

Fear clouds time’s weight,
Like ink in the water,
And I struggle to own
That I’m blind.

Wait
For the ink to settle.
Wait
For time to pass.

Do not thrash,
Quiet!

Remember,
I
Don’t
Know.

Lion

Balancing on her belly,
a boat of baby fat,

a red truck,
a monkey,
inserted with a
splat.

The gums
and drools
have no fear
or shame,

as with squints of surprise,
she attacks the new textures.

I turn towards my fears,
new textures to my hands.

I hope I can be as lion
as you.

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