War Paint, Part 3
For the first time in a long time I forget my lipstick
I let my hair down in the breeze
My heart feels a little lighter and my skin feels my own when I flex my fingers
I remember months of walks in the East Village, the same refrains, like I’ll never be the same.
This life changes me and I know now needing my armor doesn’t take away my strength.
I push my glasses up and sniffle in the spring evening.
For the first time in a long time I breathe deep and let go.
The days roll out together because I️ always know I️ have a place to be.
I️ take the train home,
Watch the L at the opposite platform swish toward Manhattan into the night.
I️ am a small person, in a big city.
East River State Park
Some days I keep my toes in the water
And my head in the clouds
I remember I have places my hands have touched and I have learned to love
I want to show them to you,
But they are mine and they bring me sunshine on rainy days
I walk on my own across bridges and beaches and I remember a little dirt on the knees of my jeans is nothing to be afraid of.
When I fall too much I remember my place is always in my own hands, my own heart.
Change of Winds
It is such a strange time
The world is endlessly possible
I want to live in it for awhile
Dance in the rain
The sky is deep and blue and the sun is strong and I wonder if I’ll someday learn to be less confused
I can feel the change of winds.
I sit on a Friday night in the rain
At a bus stop on Eastern Parkway.
I play the same songs over in my head,
Stay a little longer, like I’ll never be the same.
The heat is starting to break and I am reminded of another Friday night in August,
That a year has turned and my trip around the sun complete since the worst of days.
It sticks in my memory but I choose to walk home, rain coating my glasses, soaking my hair.
My heart is full and my steps are sure as I keep moving on forward.
Lighting flashes and I am just another girl in Brooklyn, dancing in the rain.
This time, I can see it.