This doesn't want to be a song of suffering or luxury
This just wants
Just wants to be
maybe me
Is enough
Maybe these legs
Young and sturdy
Used to run through open fields unending
Riddled with lightning fat as Nebuchadnezzar's thighs and more plentiful than breath
Artfully dodging electricity like freeway traffic
That entire summer of eleven
when it Hot rained every day in deep green
And sun hid for 40 minutes
The Vermont air a thick mist of mosquitos and
I was more bites
then fresh skin even on palms
And it was then
That I discovered the Violent Femmes

Maybe my first memory of words that wormed meaning inside of me was Poem for Flora by Nikki Giovanni
And so maybe I express too many sentiments with Old Testament references

Maybe I have danced until my feet would bleed for over half my life but
Every year that percentage is lessening

And maybe I used to daydream on top of the old brown Valari inside the Frank Lloyd Wright invention

And maybe I attempted to use cinderblocks to build a stairway to heaven due to early exposure to Led Zeppelin
I only made it as far as the top of the carport but I was closer there
and the stars
In my sphere
Were close enough to whisper to back then
Before the chains came
And so maybe that's how I still know them

And maybe I never found a place to belong
And still search
with my soul Held out before me
Like a flashlight
In both hands

Maybe ocean and cold blue with
Slick metallic fish make sense to me like planets
And addition
And turning is physics and
Pale pink and muscles that answer with quick precision simple and significant
And I am the daughter of
Dosti Jung and style and pens and smoke and hunting and pecking and jumping on beds in October country

And maybe last summer
I left the window with no screen mistakenly open
In my bedroom and the
Tiniest little starling flew in and
Hid in my closet and I didn't know until it flew out again while I was sleeping
I thought I was dreaming

Maybe I put my heart on my sleeve
An asterisk on my spine
To remind myself of things
And maybe I cry when I hear music because it trips the wire on my internal chemistry
And maybe
If you look too long at my packaging
You'll notice the holes and you can watch the atoms dance and remember that we are all just bundles of energy and
Maybe I will be alright if I can just keep breathing
And maybe I have tried to break my own bones just to see if I could do it
it’s hard to be human
This package
Is savage and flawed
Just collected wetness and hot whispers
Vulnerable and easy to attack
A skin sack of slippery tubes fluid and skeleton and underneath
nothing

And it makes me want to hold everyone
And I say I love you a lot
But I mean it
Earnestly
Yearningly
I am
Burning up with refracted passion
I am ablaze with amazement
aching With the taking in of
All these little pieces
Of majesty
And beauty
And frailty
This
Just wants
Just wants to be
Maybe me Is enough
With my soul
Held out before me
Like a flashlight
In both hands