I am a woman.
I live inside my body like an Eskimo
resisting the fire of life
all wrapped up in the thickness of what lies
between my bones and my skin.
I am a dream.
Hiding in abandoned rooms
making love to myself with food
each mouthful way beyond simple sustenance
more like dark breath groping for
a certain kind of truth.
I am a reflection.
Submerged in the act of nurturing the child.
Hand to mouth, footsteps,
Breathing, passages of time.
I want a miracle.
A man less miraculous than a blade of grass.
One who will appear at my window when
the moon slips beyond the tips of palm trees
I want to be naked and thinking of how
beautiful it would be
to realize the sound of a serenade.
For this, I will revel in my body
stand it up straight, glowing in all corners
lit from within like a summer hunting bug.
I will call myself some extraordinary thing
know it, believe it, feel it, scream it
like a song falling over the edge of the sky
a waterfall of God in every drop.

Also by Trace Weatherford  Choking on Mario -->

Trace Weatherford lives in Southern California. She has been published in ONTHEBUS, Spillway and Voices among other places.
Email Trace Weatherford at trace@gumballpoetry.com.

Want to see what reviews look like? Click here
Like this poem? Send this link to a friend