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.
