Graffiti Dancing to a Heartbeat
Please read and enjoy the work of a amazing writer.
It started with her daughter’s name
on her left collarbone
in a light, curving script
whose gracefulness was
the total opposite
of the soul-searing “why?”
and the terror of helplessness
and the quarts of loss blood
of the day she lost her.
She was a mother and not
a mother, and it altered her,
and she wanted a way to phrase it,
to go on but not forget it,
to bear that “why?” forever
and so she branded her own flesh
with the name she had wanted
to call her.
It was the perfect, exquisitely
incomplete tribute to her angel,
and she loved carrying the memory
on her skin. As soon as it healed,
she decided to give her wings.
The feathers with their soft,
delicate details wrapped around
her shoulder like an ink embrace.
She’d bare her arms more
after that. Everywhere she walked,
she wore her “why?” and…
View original post 284 more words