i asked “do you love me?”
you sighed
“that’s beside the point”
which i guess is true
’cause i’ve been mincing about
tippy-toed and frankly
my feet hurt
i am weary
and my ballet moves
have always sucked
didn’t i tell you?
they kicked me out in second grade
i was an ostrich
among fairies
and why ask to be loved anyway
really, i should’ve asked
if you like my
dan
ci
n
g
1SageFemme all rights reserved 2019
if i had known you then,
i’d have wrapped you
in steely arms
more love than trap,
but inescapable nonetheless,
and begged you to
be happy
there
so hey,
aren’t you glad
you met the
worn-in shoe
version of me?
my love won’t
pinch your toes
i don’t need extra care
to keep me shiny;
i am blister-free,
update completed
long ago
1sagefemme 2019
She asks me
Would you like some tea?
As I read,
Lounging,
The expanse of
Microfiber couch
Between us
Shrinking
Her voice
Tender,
She doesn’t drink
Tea
Or vodka,
Her consideration
So difficult to believe
How do I accept
Unconditional love?
She rises,
Traverses a menagerie
Boils water
Scoops dried leaves
Into my favourite
French kitten cup
(The one for tea,
She knows coffee
Goes in the green
Starbucks mug)
Steeps,
Long enough
And places beside me
Smiling,
“Drink it,
Before it gets cold,”
My heart quickens,
Remembering her soft lips
Heart bursting
Three years
I still don’t quite
Believe
Are real,
But she is action,
And her everyday kindness
Is its own indelible
Poetry
Etched forever
Into the hollows
The dents and cracks,
Of our mutual
Crazy
Love story.
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i had hoped to keep you
innocent
so much longer
told teachers to leave you be
told you to explore and run and play
you, who loves to dance
and sing
you, who i knew
would be bored
in school
yet,
here we are
you have been found out
not by your family,
because of course we knew,
but by that grade three test
and then the other ones that followed,
to make sure…
and how proud grandma will be
and how terrified i am
for with genius
comes a curse
dear child,
you are more that your big brain
you do not have to be the smartest
to be loved
i love your terrible temper,
and hope to help you master it,
though for now you are so young
and a reliably sore loser
i love your too-loud
off-key singing,
the way even as a baby
you swayed to music
i love the way you love yourself,
parading in front of the mirror,
styling your hair and checking out
your own wiggling bum
i love your stubborn refusal to pee
before the cottage drive,
and the inevitable
highway-side pit-stop
i love your sense of humour
creeping into my room
at 5 am
in vampire teeth
i love your refusal to go to bed
always “scared”, or “hungry,”
thinking of any excuse
to prolong the day
i love your cuddliness
always leaning in,
climbing on,
draping over…
i love your honesty
earnestly confessing a misdemeanor
and your attempts to lie,
red-faced and guilty
and yes,
i love your too-big brain,
but don’t let it define you,
my child, my love
i am afraid
of the peaks and caverns
of your over-charged mind;
afraid for you
the line between genius
and mania is blurry
too many ideas
competing for ascension
the clamour
can become dark
and dangerous;
depression
you have inherited a gift
and a curse
that not all your ancestors
have survived
but i hope
fervently, feverishly,
that you will remain
innocent
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skip ahead three decades
and you will find her,
calm and filled with wonder
her hands having become tools;
fingertips alive with a seventh sense
able to feel the barest palimpsest
engraved in dark places
the journey has been long
and she is tired,
having released many incarnations of her soul
to create this opus:
the angry girl burst
and disappeared
after she forgave herself;
the scholar dove,
swimming like breathing,
on instinct;
the lover was troublesome,
with a penchant for rescuing broken souls
thereafter enabling all manner
of bad behavior
for which she paid dearly;
becoming a mother healed her,
for in mothering her children,
she mothered herself;
within the mess of life and release,
she grew her spirit
until one midsummer day,
she awoke,
tears streamed down her cheeks,
not of sorrow,
for she was love,
in its purest form
her soul vibrated,
rippling over her dear one,
asleep beside her,
caressing her two
beautiful boys
she felt everything;
she crackled with life,
and would have roared with it
had it been morning,
she awoke
to the present
now
she is calm and filled with wonder
for life is love
and love is life
and she has found her place
in both.
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they hiked to a secret place,
if you can call a forest pool
known to all the kids in town
“secret,”
in the fleeting heat of summer
the still, deep pool appeared
unexpectedly
amid rapids and gnarling
forest branches
creatively dubbed
“hot rocks”
for obvious reasons
some generations before
it was a lazy summer sport,
hiking with beer
throwing down wet bodies
onto hot rocks
or each other
jumping into the frigid water,
laughter and screams through the quiet rainforest
until Jesse jumped
diabetic Jesse who was drunk
like the rest of them
and his mortal, adolescent heart
just stopped
searing this memory
ever after
of CPR and sweat
and the twins screaming
Jesse Jesse Jesse
there were no cell phones then
only miles to run hauling
ghost Jesse
to the beat-up pickup
and then the loss
of time
fast forward to
Sophie dressed in black
without crying,
reading poetry
for Jesse
her first love
not knowing how my heart broke
for her,
my own first love,
how I had always wished
to be Jesse
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I wake from easy dreams
Mind slowly coalescing into the memory of
You
Stunning and funny
You
Sweet and charming
You
Smart and fragile
You
My heart
Bursting open so unexpectedly
With hope and fear
Pulse throbbing longing
Through my veins
Wishing
You
To be a real thing
You
To be what you seem
You
To be more than a dream
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incessant pounding of cartoon
noise, canned music,
whistling birds
battering themselves into walls
why is my child laughing?
I push a stray hair
off his forehead
and search those hazel eyes,
feeling sadness
like a slow break-up,
already nostalgia is setting in
I miss these cartoon days
even as they play in the background
simultaneously looking
backward
and forward
time fragments into snapshots
my child,
laughing
I long to freeze the moment
already
gone
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The lake smells ripe today
Sweet and rotting
Dead and reborn in this heat,
Gulls crying for scraps
White fluff like summer snow
Swirling
Dancing with eddies of sand
Sailboats, kite surfers
Awaiting the breeze
Laughter through the trees
Remind me of her
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damn, you unbuckle me
when you touch
that way
soft fingers searching
lips
tracing invisible constellations
connecting stars
i see them
as time
slows
meandering,
made inconsequential by celestial
bodies
suspended,
drifting,
only your hands
your mouth
your eyes
exist,
my skin feels you whisper
wordless incantations
i
reply
panting
raw staccato
your hands no longer soft
press and knead,
deep into my dark core
unafraid
you explore
find that spot,
right there, yes
you unleash me
love
how you free me
did i exist
before this?
your tongue knows
my rain dance
you,
never tire
drive hard
into my longing
you vibrate
you glow,
i swear there’s a halo
before i explode,
melt
into you…
1Sagefemme All Rights Reserved 2016
Of maidens, mothers, and crones; a life in poetry, unfinished 