How else is it to be said? Simply. It is to be said the only way I would know how.. for any girl who has ever loved and lost. For any fella who has ever been used.. there are artists for us. There are those who can put the best words to use and mean what we wanted to say.
The river roars at me and I scream at it “you won’t have me!” you will not swallow me I will fight you. I will kick and flail and beat you whether it’s with my oar or with my spirit… but you will not win..
The bird lady was out again today.. standing on the bridge with her cloth bag full of crusty bread… “come here my darlings” she perches herself on the railing. Her face always hidden under her woolly hat.. I can sit and watch her .. because she doesn’t see me.. she doesn’t see anyone.. only the pigeons and crows and sparrows.
“I don’t want to be a bad woman.. “ for every time I was one. For every time I was made to be one. For every time I chose to be one.
“I am so happy” he said , with broken English and I knew he was. Because it’s what he understood “the deepest thanks” to mean. There’s a simple pleasure taken when an intelligent man crosses the barrier to a new language and speaks as honestly as a child.
i can sleep easily. Because I hear his breaths. Slow and rhythmic I copy his chest. Up…down..up..down.