salty


tastebuds stand up and scream
	(they have desires, ya know)
	they demand

	SALT!
	SALT!
	SALT!

they will not be sated until I give in to their demands

i am not the first woman to choreograph
	this dance of desire
		of need

because sometimes bodies bleed 
	and sometimes bodies crave
	and sometimes bodies are in cahoots

you can keep the salt sheen of your skin 
today i salivate at the idea of potato chips
	salty, delicious, delectable, and crunchy
     today that is what can satiate my carnal desires

you can keep your sexy times
	your hot moments behind closed doors
right now those are for other people
		not me

because unless your fingers are covered in salty goodness
			i have no use for your touch
	unless your lips shimmer with oil	
			i shall pass on your kisses
	unless your words bring me closer to salt in my bloodstream	
			i shall have to move on

	my tastebuds are a strong mistress
		i shall succumb 




and, of course, you get a video version, even though you almost didn't:
		the blue hour


that hour
		just before dawn
	when the day is an empty page
	and the author has spilled inky blue across the sky
that blue hour
		used to feel magical
	because i stayed up until light arrived again in our lives
		we
		      stayed up 
		talking through the night
	learning the sound of heartbeats
	re-creating language 

that hour must have arrived on the wings of pegasi
	because everything was new
					and beautiful
						and right in the world

					i slept with a smile

but time has changed my narrative
	and i dread the coming of dawn
i see the blue hour for what it is
		a dark time
			a blemish on the day
	because i am no longer trading stories and touch through the night
		now
			i’ve stayed awake through the night on the wings of pain and frustration
				my eyesight has become bleary and skewed 
			instead of the times when we used to solve all the world’s problems
				i spend my time staring at a screen
					praying for sleep
						 for relief
					needy in a way i wasn’t when i believed in magic

that inky blue hour is now punctuated by the quick wings of hummingbirds at my window
		drinking what i give them
			thankless, 
				      demanding
				bringing magic back 



See and hear me here:

		hike

my back throbs 
	a steady staccato of pain
my shoulders 
	knotted, knotting as i write
	pain shooting down to my right elbow
my knees
	crackling louder than bonfire and celebration
	the left one is torn inside


I wish it would all just take a hike
disappear
vanish into thin air
just for a minute, an hour, a day, a lifetime

just
	vanish

if my pain were to disappear i would not mourn for it
	i would wait nervously
		scared of its return
	but i wouldn’t put it on milk cartons
	or interview people about it on tv

i would just

wait

i would slowly learn to be who i am again
walking faster
	stretching further
i would return to yoga
	calm and strength in one

i would play more board games with my family
	and sit on the floor building legos with my son

i would call my friends and suggest that we take a hike
	that we build up to weekend backpacking trips again

i would camp under the stars in nothing but a bivy sack to protect me

i would not miss my pain

but for now it is pretty constant
	the knot in my shoulder tightening across my neck
		leaving more parts of me to hurt
		leaving me with choices of medication and hot baths
			concoctions and cauldrons to heal me

		i remain unhealed



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