Sarah LaRue
Smoke curls static from my
ember glowing fingertips
if I let it rise
maybe I too can become cloud
when I am cloud I can be anywhere
everywhere for a moment anything
other than findable touchable probeable Earth
Earth you dig your fingers into
mold to any shape you can stand to see
your reflection in
I craved spacelessness so I could be
nothing you could hurt but
I am always ever Earth again
I am bugs beneath veins of dirt etching love into story
I am iron that lifts mountains ignoring big sky storms
I am sniffs of snot dripping from pain I let leave me
I am relentlessly lifegiving lavender flame
I am not my process
I am not my pain
I am every step
I am every bruise
I will perhaps walk high plains forever remembering how to love
Sarah (she/her) is a health advocate, activist, and poet who loves the sunshine and the storms. She is a queer Jewish reiki-practicing witch, and her poems are how she explains Life to herself. Her books, I’ll just hide until it’s perfect and Tend, are available now by contacting Sarah.
