Elegy for the Living
After Nancy Krygowski
You’re texting me at 11:11, at 10:10, at 5:55 – make a wish. / You’re in my kitchen, ingredients exploded around you, feeding me something delicious with chocolate and hazelnut. / You’re bringing me dead nettle bouquets, single rose buds, a giant magnolia flower stolen off the neighbor’s tree. / You’re drunk outside the dance club yelling. / You’re pacing in your living room, pulling your hair. / You’re ankle deep in the river, fingers pruning as they read riverbed rocks like braille, searching./ You’re saying my name over and over, rubbing my sternum as I seize, trying to pull me from underwater. / You’re screaming my name from the back of the ambulance, police lights illuminating the driveway in blue, red, blue, red. / You’re dancing with suspenders down and a hat on, singing to me and smiling, as the nightclub lights pulse. / You’re rolling at the concert, Polish Ambassador playing your favorite song as you scream over the bass. / You’re blindfolding me, handing me stones to feel, describing them to me as I hold them./ You’re in my doorway, pressed up to me, breath on my cheek, so close to kissing, desire sizzling like electricity. / You’re in my doorway, voice raised, eyes darting. / You’re writing me haiku and tanka, sending me cards. / You’re emailing me letters, apologizing, saying you’ll do better. / You’re texting me, “I love you.” / You’re texting me, “You’re the reason none of your friends like me.” / You’re texting me, “We’re soulmates.” / You’re texting me, “I guess I’m just a monster.” / You’re texting me, “Please, Angie, please.” / I’m putting down my phone. / I’m walking away.
Praise the Breath
After Joy Harjo
Close your eyes if you’re able.
Be here for yourself
Let time slow down until you are present
In the moment.
Place one hand on face
Cradle your cheek as you would
That of a lover
You are your best lover
You are precious
Place one hand over heart
That drumbeat of aliveness
Pronouncing you are here
You are here
You are here.
Plant feet on floor
Root yourself
Take up space
And then breathe.
Praise the breath.
Praise the exhale,
The letting go,
Of all we’ve held tight to
The collapse onto floor
Onto ground
Into arms that love you
Muscles releasing
Mind releasing
Heart releasing
Praise the breath.
Praise this body.
Open your eyes
You are here
You are here
You are precious and you are here.
Angie Ebba is a queer disabled writer, artist, educator, and performer. She is a published poet and essayist, teaching and performing across the US. Angie believes in the power of art, writing, and performance to help us better understand ourselves, build community, and create change. Find Angie at rebelonpage.com.
The Marbled Sigh 