You are close baby
Close to another... number
And yet
You are disappointed
Oh come on
he was 72
feeding you misery
Dressed up in its finest hour
and darkest attire
Through all the shades of those
Lovely fierce women
creating
Imprisoned
Ugh
And yes with them
you stayed
prayed and poached
I mean
hunted
in terms of fair game
But now
you are alone
On your bathroom floor
Jaw clenched
Another number closer
And yet
You brought hers to a pause
Cause?
We did it all the way
Right...
And
For now
Was it Worth it
Hmmm...
It’s late
Sleep right?
We all gained and lost in sharing
Another memory formed
braking evenly
As we race to the finish line
Another coffee is poured
Mama sits next to me
Holds my hand
And her breath
Her cries a little less loud
Her heart a little more broken
Denial she wails
My walls tremble
I wish I could wash away HER ache
But that would wash away HER
And when she hurts I hurt
We smile with eyes filled like wells
Shall we?
As we sip our coffee and take our
Whole mess of ness
to the world
mother daughter seasons
Chiara Gladden
Chiara cherche à lier son corps à la nature par l'entremise de l'écriture. Comme si les trois pôles - corps, nature et écriture - détenaient une relation intrinsèque qu'elle voulait démystifier, pas pour s'en emparer mais pour mieux circuler dans cet univers à la fois intime et mystique. Qui l'appelle terriblement.
Le projet avance pas à pas. À suivre pour les débordements.
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