let me

egonschieleseatedwoman
Seated Woman with Bent Knee by Egon Schiele – 1917

when I die, let me #become
the scent on my lover’s
lips, the sway in her hips, the
bounce of her hair,

the magic she feels
in a warm bath after
a long day
the moon hanging low & near her windowpane

let me become the wish
she wishes when she’s granted
three.

let me.


A response to the #vsspoem Twitter prompt. The word: “become.”

A Peaceful Mission

Photo by Pietro De Grandi via Unsplash

They piled their things onto the ship, headed for a distant land, one where the violence of their homestate would never follow them. Captain Heras assured them of safety and provided everything needed for their journey. On the side of the ship, painted in gold: “#Ubuntu“.


This is another Twitter prompt response. Word of focus: “Ubuntu”.

captured

Art from Birmingham Museums Trust via Unsplash

They come for them, one by one. Little girls, ages 5-10: they will be groomed to birth little boys who’ll be men who’ll dictate our every move. Our #village is near passion and pain and thrives on the broken hearts of others. Our motto: “Let us ruin your lives for free.”


Originally shared via Twitter as a response to the prompt word “village.”

getting the kinks out

Massage by Emma Plunket

he hovered over
her shoulders, kneading
the knots from left to right.
she’d been tense for several
weeks worrying about the
impending divorce and
placement of their children.

what happens to a family
when both parents
cheat on each other?
who broke whose heart?
what do you say to
everyone waiting for
the truth when all they’ve
heard are lies?

she breathed a hard batch
of air from her mouth
out to the ether.
the petrissage is always
the best part of her
massage therapy.

she’s in constant need
of getting the
kinks out of
her life.


The Twitter #vss365 prompt word for today is “petrissage” (a massage technique that involves kneading the body.)

routine

NaPoWriMo #30

I wake up to the sound
of heavy rain landing
in puddles on the ground
the dog snores then exhales
I push myself up
from the comfort of a bed
that loves me more than
this weather ever could
10 hours ahead of me
screening and registering
patients, and the beat
goes on . . .


Twitter Poem