monday, april 15th, 2019 :: waxing moon
how our hands hold dream
how we are making dreams when we
cook love, for our beloved, with our hands
when we cook yams, and beets, and greens
and how this gives us our hands back to us
how we fall in love with experience
how we handle, tangle, and disturb even the outsides
of what we want
i am in so much pain
i am in so much physical pain today
and i am breathing with it and then pausing to weep
the weeping comes out of my body sometimes
sometimes the weeping does not stop
sometimes i wonder how much longer i will be grieving my mothers grief
how can i make separate her grief from mine? when really,
it is a line of beckoning hands showing me their scars
and how can i say no?
how can i say no to my own kin?
i can .
i can say no. because i love myself, because i care for myself and my life and my dreams
more than i care for being loved
because i will no longer shrink myself in order to feel love anymore
no
i will stop trying to prove
stop trying to prove i am lovable
stop trying to prove i am enough
stop trying to prove that i am a good white, owning class person,
a caring person, someone you can trust
i will stop trying to prove these things
my spine might break
my hips might cave in on themselves
and how our hands, our hands hold dream.
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