1011

I lie still
put glass figurines
on my heaving belly
curl the strands of her
hair between my fingers
and I think
of all the dresses
she wore
when photographs
felt like little glimpses
peaks
and I wobble
when I stand up
put the ivory statues
between my teeth
and think of all the friends
once wrote poetry
but got married and
splintered with glass
contacts

I feed the dog
straighten my hair
wash my face
think about the warmth
hiding in winter days
so shy and hesitant
to be anything
other than mist
or
breaking waves

I put my snout into the dirt
feel around
come up empty
don’t feel so beaten
just a little spoiled
just a little bit