things stack up,
get piled on top of her.
they add layers
of who she
and how she
and how she
(or not dance, depending).
layer upon layer
until one day
she just pops,
taking up much
more room than
she ever did before
for the folks
on pluto to hear
hold it in
inspired by my soul mate and writing partner, julie daley.
hey, have you ordered a copy of her brand, new collection of essays, stories, and more?
if so, yay! if not, scoot.
yes, we matter. beautiful. in all ways.
thank you, sugar, for the inspiration. xoxo
Love to you both. Yes. WE matter.
yes, yes, yes. and yes again. xoxo
Is that what that sound was?
It sounded so much like a sigh…
you know, even plain ole’ water kinda’ stings when it gets rerouted through the nose . . . you crack me up, moonshine.
And the people looked up, shrugged, and went back to what they were doing. She stood where she was and cried, sure she was alone, until she looked around and saw so many other women, standing alone, crying. Then one walked up and took her hand, and together they went forth to collect the rest.
The Beginning . . .
Indeed! We certainly do, don’t we?
yes, yes we do.