My Mother Used To Tell

I Still Have Everything You Gave Me It Is Dusty On The Edges. It Is Slightly Rotten. I Guard It Without Thinking. I Focus On It Once A Year When I Shake It Out In The Wind. I Do Not Ache. I Would Not Trade.

I'm Not Interested In Who Suffered The Most. I'm Interested In People Getting Over It.

Our Limbs Which Had Already Traveled Far Beyond Her World, Carrying The Click Of Distances In The Smooth, Untroubled Soles Of Their Shoes.

The Person You Have Known A Long Tme Is Embedded In You Like A Jewel. The Person You Have Just Met Casts Out A Few Glistening Beams & You Are Fascinated To See More Of Them. How Many More Are There? With Someone You've Barely Met The Curiosity Is Intoxicating.

I Support All People On Earth Who Have Bodies Like And Unlike My Body, Skins And Moles And Old Scars, Secret And Public Hair, Crooked Toes. I Support Those Who Have Done Nothing Large.