How I write you poems

Between polishing windowpanes
and carrying out the waste
I offer my ears, my shoulder,
every bit of space
Does anything belong to me anymore?
Desires of yesterday have settled in veins
My body hurts, I cannot think straight
Piles of laundry and obligations await
But for now the tea simmers
in soft morning light
And I use the six hundred seconds
To lean against the countertop —
and write.


It’s déjà vu all over again. Like a game of Snakes & Ladders, we keep going back to where we started. With six Covid positive cases in my apartment building this week (which means more restrictions and no house help) , it is difficult to find the right headspace or even the time to write. And yet, I somehow do.

When we offer parts of ourselves – through our art, our passion, our efforts, our time – even when we are uncertain, when we have little to give, what we essentially put out is gratitude and love. This is what I want to share – that life is not about certitude, it is about fascination and child-like wonder.



2 thoughts on “How I write you poems

  1. What you write makes us see so vividly about sometimes mundane moments in life, but I love every word of it! Pics are just awesome.


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