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  • Writer's pictureMichaela
    • Apr 18, 2020
    • 1 min read

Drop It

I am going to the edge of the world

Where water fills with periwinkle nectar

And my heart opens

Having been gentled into it

Through long years of hauling burdens

I never asked for, screamed and

Wailed, railed against them

But then laughed in understanding

I could drop them, not gingerly,

Like laying some fragile mathom in tissue paper,

Flinging them away! Far, far...

Hear them shatter and it sounds like bells,

Like singing, like the first dance at my wedding,

Swinging 'round while our smiles

Crack our faces

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