I
I write from days past:
words written in haste
from slit veins and a
tongue tripping, slipping
on the meat of my split
heart lying about;
words that became
thoughts just now coming
into clean lines and clarity
of a life with no place
for anger or avarice.

II
Acknowledge
express/emote
write/heal

III
As I lay in swirls
of midnight slumber
I thought of
wordswithoutspaces
and the forming of
the white space these
few years past and
how it’s becoming
less and fewer.

Purring perhaps
I am unbecoming
as I stretch
long and lean
into a full soft
woman of concrete,
heat, and wanderlust.

IV
As I reach close
to the being past
and over halfway
to forty, a calming
stillness settles
sweetly into
hard-earned wonder
and self-actualizations;
the fierceness of
being alive, of being me.