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Obstacles by Becca

11/3/2020

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Picture
​River stones
Black and smooth
Shaped like coins or elliptical eggs
Act like obstacles for the flow
Much like the current state of affairs

I wish to be water
Undisturbed by the hitches
Moving like a dancer from the arms of one man to another
Flicking heels and leaping
A single drop dissolves into vapor
Somewhere a dark cloud weeps and releases it back to earth.

Someone told me to act
And I shuffled my feet from stage to stage
Black tuxedos and character shoes
The image of something I wasn’t
Something refined
I know I’m not that.

I dug my toes deep in red clay
And licked salt off the reef
Watching silver fish tango between my legs
Wearing the current like a gown on their scaly backs
They reminded me of something 
I can’t remember it now.

The dark moon rose
And I released my blood back into the earth
Watering our peace lily in the garden
Hoping she’d take my primordial ocean and transmute it into buds
Her petals wilted and fell
Life is no match for concrete and global warming.

My son’s eyelashes flicker at 3am
Soft whimpering leaves his pillowy lips
And his head nuzzles into my breast
He is safe here and I know
These moments are fleeting
At best.

I approached the gulch from the East
Pine needles crunched under my boots
Green islands floated in the distance
While whales breached and sang sad songs to each other.
I think one of them lost their baby too.

I went up the mountain alone with one mission
Releasing trauma can be a singular act
I let out a primal scream
Felt it vibrate against the cliff face
And under my feet
But I didn’t feel better
So I walked back down in silence.

Every dawn my eyelids blink open
Like clockwork
Neon pinks and orange streak the sky
That’s the time I acknowledge the humming 
Something further away than my fan
And far more vast
I think it might be the sound of the universe spinning
I hear that a lot.

Small birds flap their wings outside my window
Their grey feathers speckled with white dots on the crest of their necks
Sharp talons scarring the branches of my mango tree
And singing something I don’t understand
I like it though.

My son picked up a purple shell on the edge of a ravine
Mermaids were lounging at the bottom and singing to him
Their multicolored fins flapping in a seductive attempt
Beckoning him to sing or dance or swim in step
He threw the shell back at them
Because he didn’t understand.

As I watch grey clouds fill the atmosphere
Palm fronds gyrate side to side
They are the only indication where the sky ends and the ocean begins today
I think I might get lost in that space for a bit.
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