slowly and
I work to stop it from
emptying itself out
completely
because I need to feel and
need to talk and
spin on my wings and
jump and joke and desire to
fill the entire space I am given and
love, love, love until
I'm all scrunched up or
all blown out from
smiling from ear to ear with
the big Yes.
The Sense of Yes,
pervading my emulsion–
the Sense of Yes,
evading all expulsion–
The Sense of Yes, with
its foot in the door and
its eye on the prize,
its pedal to the metal and
its hands on the wheel–
singing the Key,
singing the Key.
