spring, sublimation

life being good: consistent, paid up, a few drinks.
the sun shines,
my thighs come out,
the old men spy up my white thighs
whistling by

the books get read on the porch.
tea will be iced
my hair will grow long
i will remember last summer and laugh -

all those fireflies and marble statues,
in bigger cities, bigger price tags;
where life was seemingly headed.

to my surprise
i am still here -
no new moniker, not a wife, not a beloved, lots of nots that the neighbours prod my mother about

to which my ears have closed;
i remove the nots.
i like the ams.
i like the me that's left, even when alone - awake, burrowed, paid up and well-fed.
paint stained fingertips,
sharp eyes
red heart
am in love with everyone, everyone.