I live under a million-acre sky. My chest is open and my feet are grounded. I dig into the deep and dank of life. I have dirt under my fingernails and freckles on my shoulders. I believe in my body. I am strong.
I love words so I write stuff down.
I like how the words themselves are the pipe, drawing us down for a look.
Jason, your comment is almost a poem itself. Thank you...
be ...or not to be! you have magic in your words!
Woooo. Can we flush all this thinness/cleanness thing down the toilet together? Well, this poem kind of does it in spite of the obsession. In one word. Be. (Not even "TO be")I am pleased. Thanks.
Enjoyed multiple times.