here I am, a body of memories: the feet of a walker, coarse and flattened, thousands of miles have I roamed. feet that carried the weight of fluctuations between body love and body shame. ankles that were cursedly passed on thick and boney, yet never failing. calves that connect to the worst joint of this …

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something from the summer I want to remember would be the mornings at the cottage, each one filled with anticipation, a sense of possibility, those butterflies I have missed in this ‘unprecedented time’ possibility, anticipatory joy those beautiful feelings have left the dance floor they no longer tango through my mind, or swing by to …

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remind me who I am without the edges of my life without the random encounters bumped shoulders banalities, apologies face-to-face chance meetings found in the city surrounded by the buzz of human energy remind me who I am without the legroom of nature where the delicate flower can heal the wounds that isolation opened expanded, …

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