That was the moment
I would have touched your hand
or asked if I could kiss you.
We both wore pretty dresses,
brick red and pink.
I wanted to learn everything
about your life north:
splitting wood in your free time,
community conflict, living in an RV.
You said I was a role model of self-love,
amazed I trusted you
about your drug use. (I would trust myself.)
Your intelligence shining on me
feels like a beam of pleasure.
I bask and sunbathe,
accumulating reasons to live.
Praise Mother God for giving me
this fat body
to receive the physical gifts.
2 replies on “beam”
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