By Thaleia Dasberg
“simmer”
over milkwashed fields
plucking feathers off
corn stalks bleeding
I watch you steam
you smoked thing
boots freezing
under a stomach hot
with buried spring
“sarasota (next to walmart)”
home after breakfast
and before dinner
home after the 99 cent store
became the dollar store
home after my running shoes
ran off for the last time
you cupped my face like something small
i am smaller than last week it’s true
about bones in cold weather
they shrink
you cried into the sheets
i washed earlier
you cried into night starved fingers
dawn a swollen purple
it was only this morning I left you
it was only this morning I forgot you
“summered dusk”
decided to ride along
the river
phantom pedaling
the water almost waved
curving back like remote
lights in hot pursuit
freedom and
the most loneliness
i can take
the river is my healing
maybe that’s where my florida
shines through:
water soothes
my eyes leaking
and wind licking
dry
these days
today
merge into a blue
raspberry stained tongue
my hair suddenly
feels feminine
utmost
fanning in shadows
framing my shoulders
reminding me
beauty is in
good music
musicmuses
free rides
citrus craved (and fulfilled)
annotations (smart)
me.
I thought:
Life is just one form of heartbreak after another. And then what we learn in between. How we
shift breath patterns. Or learn to find peace in the rush. Grass takes root in our tooth gaps.
We smile. We know we are beautiful.