Look for birds migrating out of season black arrows in flight clouding above train lines and follow their path until your legs refuse to carry you
Kneel to dig a hole no bigger than a lamb’s heart and bury a piece of silver from the matrilineal line with blood from your ring finger a drop for each generation – reverence is key – and ashes from a list of former lovers
Cover the soil and drag yourself home wherever that may be pick the mulch from your nails drink black tea and wait
In slumber, you will see yourself sleeping, rooted in a bed of pulsing flowers and hear a voice say, ‘no matter if they are on this earth – alive or dead – this body is your own.’
Before waking with these words on your lips their meaning fading and your mind deliciously clear
JenniferBroughis usually writing, editing or reading. Outside of these wordy pursuits, she is learning Spanish and dreaming of Mexico. Her poems have most recently been published in Pussy Magic, Mookychick and Blanket Sea. She tweets at @Jennifer_Brough.