I’m never poised unless I’m pressed against the sands of pressure, slinking down loudly in my presence,
where my body feels adjacent to whatever it WANTS to feel, like sexy and craved, I’ve let so much go
and I’m not sure it comes back (even a little) but I’m fishing for it. Now.
What am I REALLY searching for that keeps me going back, thinking I’ve dropped it somewhere
in my footsteps? The scent would be gone, but, really all I’m doing is searching out shiny parts that happen to glint
catch my eye through gaps in the seams of the coats I make it wear. When they shriek their light through
layers of resistance I’ve placed to keep them asleep, I peel off the paper wrapper and I wear them as my conscious
outfit.
I notice I walk a little bit taller and my steps fall lighter. I hold my spine a little straighter each time I love another part of me
that used to scare me from under the bed. Every time I don’t shy from a situation I find overwhelming, but I stand and learn
to conduct myself in the middle of emotional torment until my arm becomes happiest while holding my pen and my tongue
becomes increasingly selective about whose voice it channels.
Kelli Gunn – January 2023
Mystic Empress 