A Thursday where aunts die and grandmothers’ earth suits are viewed without breath or blood.
Wherein attempts to revitalize yourself, you wore your brightest summer shades: pink, teal, and orange.
Your heart aches at constant ripping and repair, scattered with sawdust.
Exhausted with dosages of heartbreak medicine.
Little snack-size dark chocolates cannot sweeten the bitter taste.
The coarsest wool salts against raw skin, applauding the assortment of thoughts and fears.
Frosted with the softest sprinkles of high voltages of intense emotion,
Like an afflicted body spread on a racing gurney with closed eyes and labored breath,
sensing the changes in light from hall to hall and room to room.
But this is not movie, not at all a feature film,
this is our life.
Absorbent of both the best and the worst of what the lowlands have to offer.
Let it all fade away, tie your sunbonnet under the walnut tree and hum spirituals until everything stops.
A birth has been reported.
A rebirth has been reported.
The corset of life has been loosened,
The wallet that contains your strength is filled.
Back in orbit.