Category: Uncategorized
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Presence
Today I walked and walked and walked all the same sidewalks and neighborly streets I usually do and somehow I knew I would not find a heart stuck in or on the pavement a perfect shadow of light, the perfect pink petal of a flimsy cosmo “not today” something told me and I knew it…
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Verticalities
If the truth stands and the secret dies Why am I still lying on the kitchen floor Of someone else’s heart? Where is my heart? What does it have to say? About me, I mean. Why am I still unable to say the word ‘Mother’ without explaining it? Without experiencing that charge around my…
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new moons
everywhere I look someone is trying to convince me of the moon- of her dark of her new of her wax of her wane -trying to convince me she wouldn’t be 7.8% full of herself if her Earth were empty still. Am I too just a head of swaying sunflowers beside a fastly driven road? Full…
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To be certain,
let me first spend some of each day, some of each breath looking after what is true- the purple star flower of a flax seed true Sun Golds like Easter eggs on a late August vine true the squinty red bloom of a Desert Rose true an Archipelago of clouds in a great blue sky (like…
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The Delight Song of Stephanie Marie Santos*
I am the spine in a body called Stephanie I am the blood that beats her 4 chambers of heart and that one lonely hallway I am the untrellised veins how they spider and fill her frame I am skin each pimple and pock each pore and sensation moves through me I am the breath in her lungs (of course I am) but so, too am I the wonder of each finger and all ten of her toes; how a body can make a digit soft with its beds full of nail I am the waters of her womb: where her babies turned their first somersaults and all her…
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July
for AG Come to me slow, and easy and empty let me breathe right here in the thick of it wring water from my spine so my hips sit tall and fill with the fluency of your flowers with the shades of your contentment until every last golden jungle has been etched into my skin so I…
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where the ice pops take us
yesterdays pool water cloudy & scooped todays peach-parched begonias dead heads too last nights grill scratched clean now ‘nother round of dino jungle it’s your turn Wavy chalk drawn roads where tiny toy cars go bubbles blown by baby’s breath dance delight float on hawks squawk and birds call loud fast-moving preybelow shade is cool…
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THE OTHER PLACE
I can’t decide if it’s real -this place I visit in my mind- a parallel universe or only real imagined copy-pasted pieces from every magazine I’ve ever skimmed, the hundreds of storied books I’ve read once or twice about women and what their lives could or should be like. This place I’ve created (that lives contentedly…
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becoming water
when it became clear the cancer was going to be the thing to kill her; that the slow growing malignancy in her brain was going to be the thing to carry her away from us, from her body, from the beautiful life she’d created, she booked and kept her annual reservation at a yoga retreat in Costa Rica…
santos scribes 