Oh, I Am

August 8, 2012
I am, I am, I am

I am the wind that hugs the trees
in the middle of the night
I am shaky collarbones
and tight jawlines

I am the sound of
children's laughter –
and dainty tiptoes
and hard-back books
opened and closed

I am even more
the sounds of the woods;
the forest fairies' songs
the rustling in the bush
the flowers blooming long
the river's flow and rush

I am a collection of
broken shells
buttons and
loose bells

I am the music I love
the acoustics
brushes and soft sticks
bass lines for lullabies
and shaky, sorrowful cries;
picking strings and
other things, like
violins or soloings

I am, I am, I am

I am the seams
of my dresses and jeans
the length of my hair
the blue of my veins
the nails bitten gone
the inches of my scrawn –
waist built so small
and the bulge in my arms

I am, I am, I am
the love of my life
the most important thing
the improvement by the days;
my bravery, my suffering

I am my sanctuary
my peace keeper
my level-head and
bursting emotion

Passionate, complex
sick and inappropriate
a savior and an illness
adventurous, loveless

I ever expected

I am, I am, I am

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