The smell of your sweat is on me,
and I embrace the way I am triggered.
I extend myself through you.
In conflict, I sense where to breath into
so that discomfort can birth my unraveling.
I recognise in your own pain
my humanity
and
I dare
to love myself
even when the voices
in my head are
judging, criticising, saying no.
I say yes to the salt of my tears
yes to my raspy laughter.
I crave
for your uterus to meet mine, a
‘uterus hug’,
for the warmth of my body to be my truth
for time to flow deep as a river
where edges are far horizons.
We might not be two otters holding hands
downstream
on a sunny day.
In the world I envision
we are
still
imperfect
and from time to time
I allow myself
into rings of gold
to find
in the
black hole
of my psyche
the light
to stay
with myself
so I can
meet the bravery to
see you.
