humming my hive
saliva building lessons
for this age that tongues my heart
problem is me you see
when i was five i drew a pigeon
his seclusion was made of wood
lonely i named him
wished he had knuckles
just like me
pardon me it’s close to midnight
and i am documenting my cribs
and the little things written on skin
infectious i’ve become
disobeying my womb hot coloring the small testaments
encouraging the pelvis to write
with pens who needfully needle
the soft bend of my neck
with a memory that pleads the bloodstream
The life in a forever
my sons their magical bellies
clinging to my lungs
with sticky palms full of marshmallows
handpicking my most vulnerable form
for nothing is more conscious than the mother inside my chested wall . .
I love this!
Awe, thank you
me love too…and your sketch perfect!
Oh my!
M
They do need you. And are blessed to have you. I pray the distance between you will disappear someday. For I know you need them, too.
Thank you. I do feel blessed.
Absolutely in love with your words and the sketch. Caring soul, carrying lives. Beauty, Mari.
Being read by you brings me joy, thank you. .
Nothing more perfect in love than the soothing magic of a mothers love! You are blessed my dear, to have them, love them and hold them, cherish every day which is a life in itself! Such a love write Mari!
Absolutely right, thank you
what an odd mixture of words. enjoyed reading.
Awe, thanks
This is perfectly lovely and full of yearning.
Thank you Susan
Those last four stanzas are fascinating. I don’t know if I am reading this quite right but I will tell you what I see. I see that what has come from you, been borne of you, working its way across your body and making what is inside quiver and respond. It is like your children and your desire are simultaneous calling to their source in you and that source is both responding and responsive and expressing itself through your words (and sketch). A mingling of desire and maternity.
Stunning.
You see so clearly Jeremy.
Your attention to detail is impeccable.
Thank you so much.
It is a great poem.