for my birthday
give me solitude
a chair to call my own
no warm bodies
running circles
no eyes
weighing seconds spent
not returning
a loving gaze
give me no one
to witness or swaddle
cook for or kiss
give me the skies
permission to land
near a cottage
some secluded space
send my laptop
dark chocolate
paper and pen just in case
send me roses
if you like
I will sniff them
but I make no promises
to think of you
except with relief
you have not come along
give me loam in the soil
give me beach
give me sea
give me understanding
my desire is not
lacking in love
trust me my dear
I will come home
and all the brighter
after renewing my spirit
union with the page
I love this! I recently had a birthday weekend writing retreat and it was shamelessly wonderful. No one to cook for, swaddle and kiss. BLISS.
View CommentThank you, kirsten! That sounds blissful. 🙂
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