January 17, 2012
Poem: The Word
I sometimes practice saying it in the mirror.
I say it to my face..my hips..my body...my hair...my crooked smile...and my dainty mole...
I say it to my mother..my father..my brother...but it's just not the same.
I say it to my writing...because in it there is "it"..."it" lives.
I say it to God. Because God knows how much I want to say it again.
Because God is "IT"...the ultimate manifestation of it
God is preparing for me to stay "it" again..
I want to say it.
I say it to myself, softly. To remind myself that I am "it" and I deserve "it".
Oh...I just want to be able to say it.
I want to be able to say "it"
...and say it again
..and again, Boy, do I want to say "it".
I fall asleep, head on pillow...and look at the empty one next to me
and I say "it"
Over and over again...I say "it".
I just wanna be able to say "it"
And mean "it".
I want to say "it"
And roll around and bathe in the fragrance of "it".
I wanna look at you...and feel "it".
I mean, really feel it
And say it
With all the power that is in me...
And mean it
And as it comes from my lips
It adheres to your heart