vanity, lines, marks, healings

This sea inside of me went away with me and I don't see me in any of these things.
That nervous twitching one who was me went off twitching and I don't know where he left.
I can't find the mark, I don't see the opening, I don't see the hole where he left,
& I'm not looking because I don't miss him, I don't know who he'll meet out there,
Or how we will deal with all these things he has to deal with, he is complicated.
I got put into the ground, a living tree in the ground beneath my feet,
And I like how this moves, how this feels, and how I breathe.
I did worship that Nicotina, same as you, same as everyone, in the same ways,
In the same rituals, and the world was my church, and the world is my church.
& I was afraid I would get fat like adults do when they leave, but I didn't.
I like these little lines on my belly, and I stop and stare at every mirror,
Every vanity belongs to me when I fill the space of those mirrors.
& I'm uncomfortable because it all means something, and I don't know what,
Like I just don't know what.  & my body craves, juice and fat, and then I'm full,
& I don't know what to say about that.  I think I met someone.
& I don't know what to say about that.  I don't know what it's supposed to mean.
I don't think this was planned, I don't think the goddess of love gave birth on
the edge of the seafoam and said this is born.  It's not really born, it's in a waiting
room somewhere, & I don't know if it's a false pregnancy, but I like it.
Whatever it is, I like it.  & whatever it turns out to be, I'll like it.
These days are full of mirrors and echoes, and coded messages from a handful
of lost loves, and I want to know what they're trying to tell me.  But not
very badly.  I want to find all of my old friends, the ones who were there
at the start of this birth, the ones who blessed it, I want to find them all
and tell them I miss them very much.  We all have things we do with our
lives, there are new families and new loves and new jobs and new dreams,
and our memories are starting to belong to someone else, that next generation
that will make our anxieties and struggles irrelevant.  And we get to live in the
ghosts of our old struggles, and find ways to make meaning out of these things
so that they might be useful.  And I sleep more lately, all of this points to
something, I don't know what, something about how this has suddenly
become something else.  My belly is marked with lines that I like, and I
find myself outraged just enough to get up again and start to work, I don't
know what it means, but I love the work.


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