Allow My Waist

The babies will find you

Welcome, and a warm first hello to the newcomers!

I’m so happy you’re here.

Each of these Sunday poetry collections centers loosely around a tarot card, and this week, we’re checking in with the Empress.

She reminds us that nurturing yourself and others is cool.

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Contents:

1. Find a Graveyard

2. Cavern

3. Gravity Babies

FIND A GRAVEYARD

My body is transforming. I have a new, rounder, face:
It looks the way my mother’s did when she felt real self-hate. 

My clothing does not comment on the way my body lives:
Its purpose is to hold me, softly; to allow my waist. 

Find a graveyard to lay the low-rise demon of my youth.
I killed it with my sharp teeth. I let my tongue find its taste. 

My bones crave insulation while they walk upon the earth.
(They were not meant to bear the polar wind on winter days.)

When your hands grow frigid from a chill that you can’t escape,
It’s comforting to cup your palms around a Shelby-shape. 

Thanks to my good buddy

Jimmie Bise Jr

for helping me work this one out! Do yourself a favor and check out his writing. I recommend starting here:

Thursday! The E-Zine for May 1, 2024

CAVERN

I’ve been the child, face-slapped so casually;
Humiliated, told to know my place;
Clockwork-Oranged into harmful beliefs;
My wild, beaten into womanly grace.

I will not wield the foul abuser’s hand.
No years-gone-by will make me swing the switch.
I’ll be the sleeping predator on land,
Motherly as the whale among the fish.

I am not the child who was laid so low,
But I carry her, safe, within my heart.
Each of us has a tender place below,
A hidden cavern, secure and apart.

I held on for dear life, and I grew up,
Now how do I feel like I am enough?

GRAVITY BABIES

I hold gravity, like a railroad spike,
So similar to lightning in the dark,
As bold as sangiovese, oaky-spiced,
Just as suitable to fuel a spark.

I don’t hate anybody anymore.
I’m all worn out from throwing big tantrums,
From flinging myself, tearful, to the floor,
In protest of the coming transition.

I did not want to become a mother,
And I thought empty womb meant I was not,
But young folks seek me out for safe cover,
And I just have to find peace with my lot.

My babies find me via gravity.
They know I’ll teach them how to meet their needs.