how i used to move

I remember how I used to move:

I’d let the beat              seep into my bones and fire

my frame

head nodding to the bass

knees knocking right on pace

hips like a compass

I was a puppet

no alcohol needed              cause

tequila tastes like high school.

I remember how I used to move:

gettin a little runout               made my heart beat

and push sprit through my arteries

only thing I seeked, what it was all for

high above a bolt                like what

pulling hard moves with air

under my feet

widened my eyes and got me high

no weed needed                           cause

that shit tastes like college.

I remember how I used to move:

move,                   move,                     move,

like a nomad, happily wandering

van life


under my pillow

soothed my mind as “wanna go to wyoming?” and points on an old map

moved my feet

no need for you to approve            cause

permission tastes like 2012 and bad decisions.

I remember how I used to move:

unrolled my red yoga mat, after two breaths I’d be like

yeah that’s my psoas

and it’s as sore as…

sweat or tears? not sure, didn’t care about that or perfect


just breath, and just, can I say it? God,

yeah I just kicked it with God–

i’d be like oh hey homes, and he’d be like, I’ve got you girl,

and sometimes he was a girl, she’d hold me and call me

sweet Georgie

no begging needed                cause

disconnect tastes like artificial sweetener.

I remember how I used to move:

wrote like the pen in my hand was an IV, blood spilling onto page

straight from my heart,                  no, deeper,

my core, cobwebs cleared out with every word

every last letter clear as songs from the choir

bouncing off the paper, pulsing with life and bleeding

into each other like water color

my journal like a net that caught my thoughts,            held them

with fragile palms and wide, compassionate eyes

no pep talks needed,                    cause

fear tastes too much like right now


I sure as hell I remember how I used to move,

no remembering needed                          cause

nostalgia tastes like a poem about how I used to move.


2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Cynthia Abel
    Apr 10, 2015 @ 11:43:20

    Very cool piece- love your writing! 💗

    Sent from my iPhone



  2. Bell of Peace
    Apr 18, 2015 @ 00:09:44

    It is well written. The way you write is such flowing.


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