Poem: Full of Grace

I haven’t written a poem in months. This happened when I was writing chapter summaries for my book. If you didn’t know already, I am the reigning Queen of Procrasti Nation (Just north of Pandora). I will find a way to waste time. Twitter be damned. But at least it’s writing. I’m not sure what it’s about. Or I know what it’s about and I don’t want to tell you. Let’s just say I don’t know.Also, it’s not finished. I just like the way it sounds. We’ll call this progress. You’re welcome.

LS1&MI,

B.

PS. This is not the blog. Still working on that.

it’s tuesday
colder than winter where she lives
she chooses this quiet
winds it around her belly thick
as promise

this is tuesday
not enough light to create
a day worth longing for

tuesday like them
is a soft whispered about
faded henna on a beaten bride
the stain will not leave

though these hands scrub
and ache and red and raw
“i make no promises for this healing”
he told her

she believed him
piled mass of locks
on top her head

turned her profile
aching for the moon
the truth cascading
honey brown and soft
against place where shoulder
meets neck

her breath caught in her throat
violet and tender
still tuesday trapped between regret
and acceptance

she whispers into the dark
“I can not forgive you for this.”