A Reservoir of Words

it’s my era of wearing leggings as pants,
when i put on loud earrings
and a top that swallows my
upper half
and Vans that i would’ve
felt too uncomfortable to wear
with this get-up
two months ago

it’s my era of sticking my stickers
in which i peel the
backs off the perfect
designs and stick them
to impermanent
items, knowing they
won’t last forever
and enjoying them
anyway
until the flimsy paper or
the journal or
the water bottle or
computer has fulfilled its time
in my life

it’s my era of contacts and reading glasses
and easing into shift dresses
that flow like the river
whose journey is worth more
than the more notable eddy at
the base of the ocean

it’s my era of concerts and
committing future me to
to impractical events;
getting high and
closing my eyes while
i sway to the vibrations
drumming with my heartbeat,
opening myself to the magic
of experiencing the art
of another’s soul

it’s being drawn, just
like Ada says, rather
than being driven
and seeing who i am when
i’m alone
just like Mahogany ponders,
causing me to ponder
while i step through
the woods and remind myself
that i am not the world
and that is just fine

it’s my era of lavender locks,
a controlled spiral that
dares to not care
when the mention of my
name confounds and confuses
and brings more questions
than answers for others and
i can finally choose not to answer