The Body Poem Project: Whale Song for Morning

Whale Song for Morning 

I dreamt of swimming with cetaceans, a pink cap upon my head,

Frivolous dress for a dangerous business. 

I dreamt of singing Sting songs from childhood,

And howling Cavalier King Charles Spaniels. 

Asking “Why am I sad?” when I know full well the answer. 

Not wanting to limit, but encourage behaviors. 

Asking, "What if, I had never worn tight shoes and kept on dancing?"

My bones smashed together, who cared at the time.

This morning, sitting with my legs crossed to avoid the playful cat 

She has already dug her claw into my left foot once; It stung. 

This morning, the cat pressed her wet nose into my neck. 

When I turned, my cheek trembling; she purred. 

Face flushed. Armpits sweaty. I am warm stuffed into cotton layers. 

Writing about my body is a weird, repetitious behavior. 

Lips dry. Eyes moist. I am encouraging myself to cry, thinking, 

"Water. Flow.” No wonder, I was dreaming of whales.