Up in the air heart bare messy hair

Maybe it is
That I am a Sunday blood woman today
Maybe it is
That I awoke at 6.39am this morning
Despite no alarm
And every other morning since
Getting home from Cape Town
I have not been able to push myself up at 7.30
Despite an alarm
Doesn’t that say something
That if you let the flow know for you
You let the flow flow what it knows
Then you will be up at whatever time you body needs

The anticipation
The expectation
Ruins what can be natural
What can be a Sunday flow
Maybe that is
How every day could go
Flow, know, flow, and go

Sunday used to be the day before Monday
Now Sunday is just a Sunday
And I am by myself
Messy haired in a bed where I’ll sleep
For two more weeks
23 years old on the 23rd of April
Smelling of peppermint and rosa damascena because those are my decent smells
My Sunday smells

I am in a house not necessarily called home
But I am home
In my body
Thank you, woman body,
Flowing with tide
Blood of potential life
I am grateful to even the pain

Where’s my mind
Between the lines
I’m just fine

This Sunday Sunday

 

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