A Poem About Me in Third Person
By Bethany Clarke
**** I keep editing it !! it’s for a class
Her spirit animal is a turtle
wearing mahogany lipstick,
or is it blackberry?
No mauve, definitely mauve.
Turtle slow and easy,
turtles all the way down.
The last time she sang a song to someone,
she could remember the tune
but none of the words.
Humming to Matt by the kitchen sink
this was right before
he spoke this:
“Don’t think it’s anything about you, but…”
She’s a witch.
She’s wearing bangles up to her elbows
and a necklace of leaves,
listening to a midwife delivering dreams.
“All this might be a costume,” she tells me,
“but when is it not
I am soft blue waves, a tide blooming,
the smell of sea stars.”
Some other important/interesting things:
Story by Grace Pezzella about women taking up space in the White Mountains.
& thanks to a wise friend for this advice: There is no “right” way to love or carry out relationships. Whatever floats this fleet of boats in the ocean of emotion is guided by waves of all forms.