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Birthday cake & tipping scales.
I saw her picture on Facebook a few weeks ago, holding her bundle of one year old on his birthday. A year later, & she she isn’t a stick. Unlike every other woman I’ve known to have a child in a good while, she didn’t seem to squirm underneath the weight of that extra skin.…
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Throwback Thursday: for the storyteller.
It was that time staying an hour late turned into the whole evening. No cares were paid to the winter storm advisories flashing from the news to my phone, with the assistance of my all too concerned mother. Please leave, she pleaded. It’s only going to get worse. I couldn’t help but believe her warning,…
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What they’re not telling you.
We’ve glamourized the one night stand. How fearless of you to give yourself away so carelessly. How bold. How wild. & so the virgins in the room, those of whom are fewer than few, feel ashamed. The gift of purity all at once does not seem like much of a gift. The word itself, a…
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Sometimes we go.
Because there’s no reason not to. Because we’ve got unsettled feelings. Because all we’ve ever done is stay & walk in single file line & we’re suddenly filled with a curiosity that has invaded even our lightest sleeps. Because all we’ve ever done is stay, & we don’t know how to stay anymore. Sometimes we…
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On the account of cricket songs & other the less audible orchestras.
Did you know that we make sounds? More than the coo of a baby, or the lullaby of a sweet mama, deep within us there is an orchestra pouring out, hymns at our innermost core. I’m intertwining my soul with Barbara Brown Taylor’s, as I trace her words in Learning to Walk in the…
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In the business of forgiveness.
“My child, your sins are forgiven.” He says it & I’m breathless, every sort of unease slipping in through this skin. My fingers dance together in awkward tango, eyes feeling the tides growing ever more closely to the shores of my lids, dams only promising to contain a little more. You’re pushing it. No, no,…
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In between todays, tomorrows, & my cat collection.
I’m antsy. Antsy about tomorrow, antsy about my wedding day, antsy about going old, & antsy at the wonder of the turning point of which I am classified as an old maid. At what point do I start my cat collection? & I know my mothers beginning to question my future by her…
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Galaxies & beauty marks.
I scale the moles across my arms, thinking of the continual patterns of galaxies under this cotton t shirt. I wonder, maybe out of ignorance, maybe out of innocence. I wonder what they mean. I wonder what they’re charting. I wonder if heaven will unfold to God cradling my fragile self in his arms on…
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When they told you to take it slow.
When you both professed your love for each other, that night through those texts, leading to a phone call, leading to a late night drive where music was faint & voices were careful, dancing around the elephant that sat in the room. Tongues held, tiptoeing around the broken-hearted girl, still picking up her own pieces…