Okay Camari…you gonna go and do this to us?! Geez…this is the one thing I hate to talk about.
It’s all about intention, you know? What I think of me can change on any day. It can change from morning to night. It can change from minute, to minute, sometimes, depending on what I am up against. When I was younger and hormonal, it could change at the time of the month or when I was pregnant…now that was another story all on its own.
So, I will stop stalling and get down to it. This time I am making it a list poem in the third person. It’s easier that way.
She is an introvert.
She covers her head, even when there are no storms.
The fogs at her hearth invites the light to seep
She is a laugh.
She is the absurdity.
It is all absurd,
She is a tender.
She aches for the children, the puppies, the kittens, the offspring.