Zarafa, my love

With your tiny fingers and toes
Nails so sharp to rake new lines
In your young cheeks
With the fresh sensation
Of shock and awe
We welcome you to this place
Unknowing how to tell you
But with soft touches
Gentle words and careful
Rubs to soothe your stomach
As it navigates for the first time
Those aspects of life
That are harder to swallow
If we are not perfect
Trust us when we swear
We will try ever harder
To understand and be present
For and in all things
That matter to you
Please know that
You are wanted, and needed
And best of all,
You are loved

Hedgehog

I once moved country
With a sleeping bag
A dictionary
Two dresses
A blue t-shirt
One pair of jeans
And a change of underwear
To live in a nine foot
Square box with no
Toilet or fridge
I cooked ravioli
In the tin over
A five euro
Electric kettle
And washed both
Food and clothing
In the bidet
Entertaining friends
One at a time
As I acquired
A single mug
With no handle
Singing songs
With strangers
Who were also
Far from home
So do not dare
To presume
That I will permit
Myself to acknowledge
The inconvenience
Of personal growth
There are other things
Upon this Earth
That chafe

Belonging

Le déjeuner prêt dans ma tête
Je sors, l’éstomac toujours vide.
Le mémoire m’aide plus à m’en
Souvenir des choses dont j’ai été
béni de connaître pendant la vie.
Ce vie, ma vie.
J’ai perdu le fil, et d’un coup
Tout la toile s’etouffe.
Les ficelles étant autant confusés
Que tout l’histoire est ruiné.
Mon histoire en ruines!
Je ne sais plus comment y’en croire.
Il me manquent les preuves,
les petits aides-memoires
Où sont-les?  Je me sens seule.
Le monde m’entourne avec ses
Médecins, ses hôpitaux, ses maris,
Ses enfants, ses routines…
Et je le reconnais de moins en moins.
Chaque jour, à chaque pas,
Il est nouveau, le tout.
Et j’y appartiens plus.