Just when I think I’m done, said everything that can be heard,
reached the end of sharing it all
Just when I think there are no more stories
and I can spend my time laughing at cute pet videos and making plans
for the weekend, forget about the past and plot new roles for my future
Just when I think I can make coffee or eat eggs or take a walk
free of memories or reminders or emotional baggage
I think of you.
And my day crumbles around me,
no matter the strength of my arms or the length of my hair
I cannot hold up the beams of the hours.
The dust settles in my eyes, my teeth, the folds of my knees, between my toes
Washing with warm water does not work to remove the dust of my imaginary perfect world.
My heart feels dirty.
Laurie Montemurro is discovering how to translate the language of movement into the dance of words. Thirty five years as a professional dancer has fueled her desire to share stories through poetry. Words that move across the page, spaces between those words for the reader to insert their own story, making the poem complete.