He looks up to where she has bewitched the marbles.
They are all different sizes, and they float,
Above the blanket,
Turning in elliptical orbits,
While she dilligently works.
Serve for yourself and your mother. Or someone else's mother. Or a friend. Or a date.
I believe in the memory of bones.
You can question yourself endlessly when it comes to what politics you should have, what opinions you ought to hold, and what sort of person you intend to be, but if any part of you whispers to walk away because something is wrong, you need to hear it.
Everything is so alive.
And I remember that love must be a choice.
That every day I must point myself in the direction
I am going.
I know feminism is almost a dirty word in our society. The second you raise it someone is angry.
I will know the names of everyone in my village. I will make eyes at the postman. Sometimes, I will turn up at your house and take you somewhere.
There are all these hours
In any given day
But they don't seem to have space in them.
So I found my coat and my invisible net and went after it.
With the flash of the Perseids
Our lives are extraordinary.