MIND: Tutor

If I could go back, I’d coach myself. I’d be the woman who taught me how to stand up, how to want things, how to ask for them. I’d be the woman who says, your mind, your imagination, they are everything.

Look how beautiful.

The Chronology of Water: A Memoir // Lidia Yuknavitch

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SOL: Salve

Her hands were the closest
Thing I have ever felt
To a deity, a higher power
Or
Just
A rotten good time.
There must be
A cure for this; harnessing power
From a liberated women,
I watch her live through
Smoke screens, admire how
She avoids commitment through
Nimble feet, boca de piñón
She gives me the worst dreams.
I am sure through her palms I would be
Absolved of all sins, forgiven for future
Transgressions…
I would tear myself apart
To figure her out, to be given
The chance to see her in the morning
Stripped down, covered inch by inch
In the sun’s rays like
A slow eruption, a fiery blessing
Reticently learning that
All things worth having come
Attached to a lesson.

3AM Thoughts // AKA “Looking for Reasoning to Obsession.”

MIND: Linguistics

You drink a language, you speak a language, and one day it owns you; and from then on, it falls into the habit of grasping things in your place, it takes over your mouth like a lover’s voracious kiss.

The Meursault Investigation // Kamel Daoud

SOL: Ownership

it took 28 years
to muster the courage to remove their
fingers from my skin
one by one, expressing infinite
tenderness, and explain
my body is my body is my body
it is not for their consumption
less for their control

my body is my body is my body.

3AM Thoughts // AKA “Only With My Permission & Under Certain Conditions.”

MIND: Barbaric

in my barbaric tongue
flowers are called flowers
and about air I say air
and stepping on the pavement bricks
with my heels I tap in
brick brick brick
and I say stone so softly
as if stone were velvet
and I bury my face in your neck
as if a cat’s warm fur grew there
and I love
my barbaric tongue
and say: I love

In My Barbaric Tongue // Halina Poswiatowska