I feel raw and restless after the holidays.
Usually I find peace sometime before and I want to hold on to that
But it dissipates and melts away
In the light of what often feels like too much noise and ‘people fracking’.
That’s what I call it when I yearn for tenderness and round ripeness…
When I feel I must close doors to find respite…
When I long for grandmother’s lap
And godmother laughing in the corners of my heart.
It has nothing to do with lack of love…
I see there is love, but it’s not gentle and soft…
It’s 'I’m all confused but I love you' love…
It’s 'look at me am I ok?' love.
Sometimes I want to sit quietly with them all,
No wine glasses clinking
Nothing in the oven
No plans for the future of the next hour.
I just want to sit and let the stars fall where they may.
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