Step one – vulnerability
sometimes when you think you know the way- you should go
I find myself catching the bus at the end of the line
two- when I am exposed beads of sweat roll across my forehead, all I want to do is bury my lungs in hot coffee
Three- on being a writer- contending – I don’t write love poems –
I don’t write love poems
I repeat
I don’t write them
By now I’ve grown down to the point of a pencil,
and now I’m ready to start again. kindness sis . Krissy
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