Here

in the sacred ground

of a New Year

I am burying

deep

into the mound

of the barrows

somatic memory

I deserve

to release.

I am burying

the sensations of

guilt that rose

to my shoulders

flushed my cheeks

every time I said,

‘this

is what I need.’

I am burying

the splinter

of grief

wedged

in my upper back,

it’s rough black edges

pulled from my body,

released

into the earth

to graciously

loosen

one day

with decay.

I am burying

the craggy boulders

of otherness

found locked

in my lower body,

the roughness

of their presence

slowing me down

blocking me off

from you

and you.

I am burying

the bed

of rusted green nails,

the ones that

cropped up in my belly

years ago

to shape

a world view

of separateness

I no longer need.

I am burying

the cracked

concrete steps

of judgment,

the ones that

crumbled over

the three decades

of my life

hidden in my torso

disallowing me

to twirl clumsily

with glee.

I am burying

the twisted red rag

of silencing–

it’s been caught

in the back

of my throat —

that’s stopped

the possible

from popping up;

into the dirt

it must go

with the others.

I speak an elegy

I sing a dirge

my fingernails

caked with dirt

as I bury

into the barrows.

Out with the old;

in with anew.

Inhale; receive.

Exhale; let go.

May be a closeup

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