we were walking through a field of red alders
‘watch your legs
be careful of your legs’ my mother said
the legs that would carry me
into the rest of my life
‘do you mind’ she lit a cigarette
‘no.’ children weren’t allowed to mind
when it came to things like
breakfast, gasoline, cigarettes-
they were all complimentary
if the air had walls they’d be stained a dingy yellow
and the sun, a fluorescent light filled with black flies
scrambling in a circle
in search of freedom
a thorn grazed the back of my shin
two drops of blood pooled at the surface of the opening
‘i’ve got to quit smoking’ she said for 47 years
i smiled too but i was thinking about the blood on my leg.
my brothers hair was white
white like softness
as he trailed behind us in my shadow
mouthing ‘shortcut, shortcut.’
all of the days harshness
used up in one hour.
"i am every harsh place i've ever been."
"i write because she looks good on paper."
"i had found poetry. before i found you. or anything else."
"i manifest the resiliency to create art, in light of a war."
model / writer: Cassidy Ingersol @cassiyydawn
"even in love, i wrote like i was out of it."
It starts on a freezing cold beach in Alma, New Brunswick; as the tide begins to roll back toward the frosty shore.
It ends with friends, numb from the wind... but laughing. The kind of laughs that make you forget to feel the cold in your bones.