Sweat salt shimmers on my glasses. Sunlight on the counter, tinkling doorbells. It’s a new year (arbitrary). Writing to “Be” something that these ladies would respect. So restful, watery sunlight, like gray velour, stone boots. Chocolate. Tea kettles. Small, glass, restful. Privilege. (Privilege, privilege) whispers in the back (a whisper). Sanctity opposed.
Peninsula of here, water shimmering on all sides, blue vision, view that stays with me. My forest village, my wickiup, my lavuu, my yourt, my mjalla, nfalla, barn on stilts, my cozy turf house, my kuti, my cushion. Experimenting with endurance, at cross purposes. Eventually home. She is someone you don’t know.
You half fairy sky pink and blue delicious shiver of winter sweaters outside looking in – lamplight, the computer, everything is stoney stoney fate in colored stones. Even these, my withered hands, my mothered lands, my wickered fronds, my lizard glands, my wizard wands, my blizzard bonds, my knickerbockers and the everlasting penniless.
Fear fast speech, warm rooms. No fear of storms, doors, toothbrushes. No fear of going downstairs in the dark. No fear skiing, no worry over falling. Fear of fear, no fear of sleeping. Fear of missing sea, but saw the sea of snow, sparkling darkness in the cemetery, grandfather mother buried there.