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How The Body Speaks

12/13/2018

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Picture
How the body speaks
As the wheel turns
How the body hurts
Lighting the way
With a brutal honesty
Arising from within

It was all grief she said
As she wiped the tears 
From her knowing
Oh well if my sadness offends
These feelings
Are the same ones
That enveloped you in love

There are notes of sorrow
In the moan of her breathing
I am ok with the leaving
I have given it many thanks
This balance does not come easy
It has not come easy

I bite my tongue 
To the point of bleeding
You do not have to be a victim
To be hurt

She stopped battling the waves
And let them crash upon her easy
Unearthing the sediment
Of buried self worth
Behind so many apologies for being

The words come from her stomach
And bottleneck at her mouth
Where do I begin?

Swimming towards her shore
She has to defy her drowning
She has to defy her drowning
She has to defy her drowning

Lungs full of regret
She collapsed onto the sand
And coughed up resentment
Nearly choking on those tears
Full of salt
That threatened to erode her thriving
Gasping
She wiped her slate clean
With breathing

It was all grief she said
Oh well if my sadness offends
If nothing else
I am entitled to my depths
And my river
Flowing underneath this surface

The weight of her patience
The fire of her passion
Compacted the sand beneath her
Under pressure 
She became mirror to each grain
With her own eyes
She is seeing
She can house her ocean
And all that washes ashore
She is strong enough 
To hold down the Earth
And when need be
She can be carried away 
With the wind

It has taken eons 
To balance her current
She is tempestuous by nature
So she grounds with forgiveness
These feelings are her eyes
Even when she wishes to sleep
There is her vision
Open and
Filled with emotion
She has never been apart
From this world and its vibrating

When the tide is low
Off in the distance
You can see her wading
As it is troubled
You will catch her swimming
Her eyes
Watery and becoming
Will pierce
Through the air 
Like a siren's song
It was all grief they will say
Oh well if my sadness offends


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    I am a poet, for better or for worse. It is a way in my being that, ironically has no words. It is a way in my being that finds me when I, and helps me to, forget. I am a poet, for better or for worse.

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