I’m kind of flat now

I am pressed

I noticed it in the mirror the other day

Like a paper doll

sort of flimsy or just

just flat

The juniper oil in the air here

It’s like a light

It is a light

my papery dust wings

 

searching for it

I remember things

No one knows

So those memories

are my own nothing

Silk

Swan

Howl

I suppose those are good

Occasionally the leaves let it be so

The pine needles

stick to my skin…

My kid ate one

I want to be three dimensional

I like the idea of things poking out of me

And into me

I like the jutting out

The obvious curve

When I feel flat

I wait.

I slumber

I remember

any hand that touched

this sculpture

and made it sing

I sometimes make soup

or puddings….

 

or crawl straight into the lions

roar