Song

It's not as if there's been nothing going on, and it's not as if there's been nothing to say, but it's been a while since I last posted here.

There's been something about who's writing,

who's speaking, who's in this changing time.

Thanks to the Understory group.

Your thoughts are welcome.

These silent weeks

I’ve wondered how to speak.

Saying changes the thoughts –

then that‘s not it.

That’s not it.

Who’s the me

who’s saying that’s not it?

And now, again, who is she?

She’s changed again.

Who is she now, and now, and now?

She can’t be pinned down

with formaldehyde,

she can’t be pinned up to display.

She needs to fly

even for only one day.

Once there were reference points:

how others seemed to feel,

how others acted in their lives.

Others liked some of me

and not the rest. Best to give them

who they thought I was and

who they wanted. Until

something came that was

too strong to hide.

And now she’s changed again.

Who is she now. And now. And now.

She can’t be pinned down

with formaldehyde,

she can’t be pinned up for display.

She needs to fly

even for only one day.

The layers changed.

Months when I found out

how to be less edited

merged with months

when gaps filled out in the brain.

Mind-pieces moved one more time,

some more times

over time. Who knows

how much time it will take.

And now she’s changed again.

Who is she now.

And now.

And now.

She can’t be pinned down

with formaldehyde.

She can’t be pinned up for display.

She needs to fly

even for only one day.