Dear woman, love your belly. Wrap yourself in handwoven dresses; let starwhispers linger in your ears. Don’t dismiss your wisdom just because it’s incomplete. You learned how to tend your fireglow soul; you know flames don’t always equal heat; you know coals need companions. Offer your sinking eyes benedictions, sing psalms to their crinkles. Let your throat court gravity in a slow burn romance. Consider: no one can define your capacity for beauty. Will you choose your own loveliness? Blow kisses to your reflection every day? Who will teach your children to write love letters to themselves, if not you?
Related Posts
The day has no itemized list but it must be completed
Lacking heat, I line my ribs with decorative votives, light them, and forget to say a prayer. A service of…
Slow download over a weak open WiFi connection
Curtain flicker: your eyes, no—my eyes, nighttime windows: women walking half-naked back-lit big screen TV, what am I watching? No…
Write a household poem
This poem has its own house, a hundred closets where the mismatched towels go, one cupboard where the dishes rattle…