Her sun rolled his bouncy ball into a stream on purpose.
Mama goes after ball as her sun cries insistently for his bouncy ball’s return.
In the midst of the haste Mama takes stroller down into stream with her.
Mama and the stroller are in the stream.
All of mama’s stuff gets soaked; her phone, keys, purse…everything.
She grabs the ball and throws it up the little hill.
Her sun grabs it and throws it back in. This happens twice before she’s had enough.
Her sun thinks it’s a game and jumps in too.
She attempts to salvage everything.
Her sun now cries insistently because he notices his waterbottle is floating down stream.
Mama says forget that water bottle.
She regrounds.
She rescues all her belongings.
She takes a deep breath, and sternly tells her sun “get it together”
Then,
She walks down stream and retrieves her sun’s waterbottle.
DAYDREAMER

Bones

Crust

Knotted women
Knotted women
With whipped legs, full
Siren Buddha orphan
Four fingers and red mats
Brown squares under their eyes
Lives down the street some tag and sway
Knotted women prefers it this way
King bed in clams
Pearls replacing pupils
Pills and a nice white
Did a promise keep them
A fellow hand wrapped in silk and wool
The sun cleanses knotted women
Bathing child
Swimming in muscle memory
A letter is nothing
A minute a mile away
Knotted women don’t keep time
Don’t use things how they’re suppose to
Right brained
Hair pulled brick by brick
Dreaming to touch Jupiter if they make it
Shiva in the Himalayas
Knotted women are Satis’ sacrifice
A severed limb
Mermaids live with them
They call each other sisters
It soothes all the soil and turmoil
It inspires miracles
Knotted women
I often find myself
surrounded by
books and papers
lovers expansion
Text:
The heavens of womanhood.
Revelations of my souls essence.
Emerging ashes saturated in a deliciously delicate black hole of grit.
You know, the usual.
And you?
Fields
Fragile Fields
speck of dust
seven dead stars
bright on earth
tough enough
dangerous
native fields
of rainbows
of blue lotus
sirens of the womb
being of severed sea
shifting soon as wonders of the world
as little sweet girls
forming fields and seven hills
fragile Fields
a fearful yield
Natural disaster
After the storm
He cries
Having no honor in his display
So she lays around lighting sage like it’s a cigarette
He sweats now not understanding
He likes to talk
She likes to walk
She pretends she doesn’t feel his stutters
And he denies she knows where he comes from
Not knowing himself from the outside
He is
A natural disaster
Gazelle
Could I be a gazelle
Admiring the wind
Learning from her
Becoming the wind
Smelling the storm
Seeing the atoms of mist
As all gazelles do
Waiting
Waiting
