In what ways can I pull
My body so it feels like me?
What does it feel like
And breathe something that’s you?
I keep thinking that some day
I’ll look in the mirror
And they’ll smile back
A seeing smile
A connected smile
Between what’s in the head
And the heart
And the flesh
Not this tentative, unsure curl of the lips
An up curl, or a down? Or both?
Which category is mine
Is there such a thing that holds me?
What are those? he asked, tracing the purple streaks on my hips.
Stretch marks, I said, a blush filling my cheeks.
He sensed my shame and he kissed those streaks and said he loved them, just like he loved the rest of my body.
It wasn’t contrived like you’d expect. It was exactly what I needed; what I thought I’d asked for from him but never received.
I was grateful he’d never answered Polo when I’d called Marco in the past. He instead gave what he wanted to give in that moment.
That made it all the more real and precious.
I had a chat with a friend who is dating her partner for the second time round. I wanted to know why people choose to date someone more than once. What makes it different the second time and how do you make it work when it hasn’t before? Turns out they’re doing something right: they’ve recently gotten engaged ❤
It could have been the wind, that possessed your hair. It could have been the sun, that coloured your cheeks. It could have been the sand that made your toes curl.
But I like to think it was me that affected you.
When you’re scared you run away
When I’m scared I clarify
Imagine what we’d be
if we weren’t scared
I am no-one’s secret, lover
I am a prize, just as you are
As I hope I showed you
I don’t only exist in the dark
when you need an ear, a cuddle, or to come.
I’ve needs and thoughts and I hoped you cared
enough to see them in the light, too
I just wanted you to hold my hand in the street
where people would see us
because I am no-one’s secret lover
I am the in between one
a bridge between two others
I will gather all your pieces
when you thought them lost
painstakingly discover them
through long conversations
filled with hair stroking
kissed fingertips, tears
and all of my labour
and once I find all the parts
I’ll glue you back together
Make you see how perfect you are
how perfect you were already
perfect enough for you to thank me
and to float on to the next
and for me, tomorrow
there’ll be another almost-whole
to discover, collect and embrace
but what about my pieces?