Bad words and damnation and playing with light…..

To remove from my body both lymph nodes and splintered wood took a minute. I spent a wakeful night in the hospital afterwards tripping on pain meds that didn’t agree with me, my forty-three-year-old body also balking at the antibiotic in my line. The list of drugs I could no longer safely take kept growing…

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Wide stretched wings and deep mud knees….

When those implants came out there came to me the freedom of a child, a release from heaving false things around. I had let a few close friends in, let them support me as I journeyed through, and felt the warm touch of sunlight in a room I’d shut away. Nourished and known, it felt…

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A table of weeds and a heave of grace…..

Four years into life with adequate bosoms there came an aching under my arm, a numbness to my fingers that would come when I played hard with my kids or worked vigorous in the yard. Eventually I could feel it, a tumor the size of a tennis ball. I was scheduled for surgery and waited…

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Silicone sorrows and weeping wings….

I’ve had a broken wing. Sometimes gimpy these last 30 years, it’s been cut up to remove tumor and strip lymph nodes. I’ve grieved some things, especially how a swollen pain will insert itself when I paint and write and prune and plant and sometimes just breathe air. I used to imagine the injury a…

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Muddy tracks and incorrigible hope…

Hello March and hello you:) I’ve been courting the quiet and trying to unhurry about it. The girl I used to be would’ve been horrified by the gap, annoyed and shamefaced with all the gaps I’ve come to keep since my body stopped reliably getting on board with my plans. That idealistic sprite has grown…

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